Snapshots
by redwingedatheart
Summary: cute, fluffy, angsty, depressing, and unrelated BatFam Drabbles, Prompts, and MiniFics Latest Chapter: (Learning Curve V) In the months following Bruce's death, Tim has to reconcile his place in his family and once Bruce is back, it's going to take a lot more to fix the broken relationships in the family
1. Table of Contents

**Table of Contents**

* * *

Chapter 1: This

Chapter 2: Meeting Clark

Chapter 3: Learning Curve I

Chapter 4: Answers

Chapter 5: Learning Curve II

Chapter 6: Christmas Miracle

Chapter 7: Visitation

Chapter 8: Change

Chapter 9: Vows

Chapter 10: Mainframe

Chapter 11: Anything

Chapter 12: Everything

Chapter 13: Learning Curve III

Chapter 14: Learning Curve IV

Chapter 15: Big (and little) Brothers

Chapter 16: Model Behavior

Chapter 17: Tears (Dick and Tim)

Chapter 18: A Stolen Kiss (Kon and Tim)

Chapter 19: Cake

Chapter 20: One in the Morning

Chapter 21: Doors (Tim, Dick, and Bruce)

Chapter 22: Appetite

Chapter 23: Scars

Chapter 24: Practice Makes Perfect

Chapter 25: Control

Chapter 26: Panic

Chapter 27: Getting Older

Chapter 28: Transitions

Chapter 29: Irrational

Chapter 30: Trust

Chapter 31: Make Me

Chapter 32: Freak

Chapter 33: Model Behavior II

Chapter 34: Not So Secret

Chapter 35: Titles

Chapter 36: Alone on Christmas

Chapter 37: New Years Eve

Chapter 38: Haunted

Chapter 39: Learning Curve V

* * *

Any prompts or requests can be sent to my tumblr: redwingedatheart


	2. Meeting Clark

It was always their dream to meet Superman

 **Meeting Clark**

* * *

"I want you to stay here, okay? I know I promised a tour, but something came up and I have to attend. Don't talk to anyone who doesn't work here and don't get lost. This is a large building, it's easy for anyone to get lost, and I know how accident prone the two of you are," Bruce repeated for the third time in an hour. Although he wanted to stay with them, Bruce had to attend to an unscheduled board meeting that was cutting into the day he had planned with Dick and Tim. This had been his opportunity to teach them about his job, what he did when he wasn't home, but it was as accident prone as his sons and things always came up.

The boys watched as Bruce made his way down to what they assumed was a conference room. Tim, frustrated that they had nothing to do but sit around and wait in a boring and empty office, complained, "I can't believe we actually have to sit here and do nothing."

Dick looked down to his angry little brother, a side he rarely got to see, and couldn't help but agree. "I know, Babybird. He said today wouldn't be boring but it definitely is." Wanting to be optimistic, Dick added, "We'll probably find something to do if we look hard enough."

They sat around Bruce's personal desk trying to find something to do while Bruce worked with a room full of, what he called, incompetent employees. Every now and then a secretary would walk into the office and ask if they needed anything, but at one point they just found a key in one of the drawers and locked the door to keep anyone from bothering them. If they were going to be forced to stay here then they wanted to have some privacy.

Finding nothing to entertain themselves in Bruce's piles of paperwork, Dick looked around the room to see if there was anything else. He did have a lot of papers, but only black pens that they couldn't use to color or draw. Bruce didn't even keep a tv in his office and there weren't many games they could play while they had to maneuver around all of the furniture. Once Dick looked into the closet and found some sheets and blankets, he decided they could make a fort out of everything in the office. At the Manor, they would entertain themselves for hours while building a fort and there was no reason the same logic couldn't apply here.

At first Tim wanted to move the desk away to give them more room by the windows, but when it was too heavy for them they rolled out the chair and put it in the center of the room. The floor lamps were moved from their place in the room's corners to sit on either side of the chair. The couches were even heavier than the desk so instead they removed all of the cushions and used them to build the walls of their compound.

Looking at their work satisfied by their progress, Dick asked, "What do you think Dad's going to do when he finds out?"

Tim responded with absolute certainty, "He'll thank us for making his office more interesting." He didn't understand how Bruce could stay in the room for hours on end. Even though Tim liked peace and quiet almost as much as a boy his age could, this was just too much for him.

While they were making a few more aesthetic improvement, taking some paintings off the wall and books from their shelves, they heard a tapping on the window and felt a shadow pass over them. They turned around to see Superman flying right next to the building looking just as shocked as they felt. He was simply floating in the air and staring at them confused. No matter how much they might have wanted it, neither Dick nor Tim had ever imagined actually meeting the strongest person on the planet and they didn't quite know what to do.

Eye's not leaving the silhouette, Tim leaned onto his brother and whispered, "Do you think he's here for us?" He were abstractly aware of the things the Justice League did, saving the world and all that, and he couldn't imagine any other reason Superman would come by to visit. He didn't really look like the kind of person who dropped by to visit complete strangers for no reason.

Dick considered the likelihood that they had done something bad enough that Superman would need to come and intervene and couldn't think of anything. "What do you mean, Timmy? We didn't do anything that bad."

Tim knew that was true, but he still thought, "Dad might be upset about the office and he called Superman to take care of it. It might be one of his secretaries upset that we locked them out of the room."

"We just moved some things around. That's not enough of a reason for Superman to come here," Dick assured him. Even as he said it, he was beginning to lose hope that this was just a stroke of coincidence and started to feel anxious.

They considered his motives in quiet murmurs, none of them taking into consideration that Superman could hear everything they were saying, until Tim asked, "Should we let him in? He's been floating around for a few minutes"

To be honest Dick didn't understand why Superman didn't just come in the room himself. It's not like Superman wasn't strong enough to do anything he wanted. "Yeah, I guess so. It's probably important for him to be waiting so long."

He walked over and unlocked the window, letting the giant Kryptonian fly inside while he made his way back to his little brother. Even though he was incredibly excited about just being in the same room as the hero, Tim couldn't help but feel like they were in trouble for something. Superman looked as frightened as them judging by the way he frantically looked around at the mess in the office and kept his distance from them.

The very first thing Clark did once he landed in the room was start asking questions. "Who are you and why are you in Mr. Wayne's office?" He even used the stern voice Bruce had been helping him to scare the boys into telling him the truth.

It seemed to work as Dick quickly answered with a slight quiver in his voice, "I'm Dick, that is my brother Tim. Dad has a meeting to go to so we're here waiting for him." Dick thought for a moment and asked, "Why are you in Dad's office?"

"Dad? Did you just call Bruce Wayne your dad?" Things were only getting more confusing as the day went on and he needed more answers.

"Yeah, he's our Daddy," Tim explained in a slow voice. Right now that was the only thing that made sense and he couldn't see why Superman would focus on it instead of getting to whatever it was that brought him to Gotham.

Clark sat down on the only free office chairs in the room with shock written all over his face. He could never imagine Bruce as a father, definitely not someone who could raise two children. It also struck him that this meant that the boys had to have a mother and Bruce could actually have a long term relationship with someone without one of his many faults turning her away. This had to have been one of the last situations Clark ever imagined Bruce being in and one that had his reporter instincts screaming to find out more.

A few feet away the two felt a little proud of the fact that they had had such an impression on the hero, but not entirely sure what to do with their guest. The last thing they wanted to do was hurt Superman in some way and keep him from helping people.

Tim walked over to the hero slowly and asked cautiously held out his hand, "Do you want to help us finish our fort, Superman? We're almost finished, but you could really help us."

Looking around, Clark chuckled at the state of the room. These kids were definitely as resourceful as their father. "Is that what everything is? Your fort?" It certainly resembled some structure, but nothing like the things Clark used to build at his farm.

Dick was proud of their creation and knew that Superman could only make it better. "Yeah and we have to finish before Dad gets back. Do you want to help?"

"I don't see why not." He wasn't here for an emergency, just a check up on League business, and he was already planning on spending the next few hours in Gotham. Clark could only imagine what Bruce would think when he came back. It wasn't common for anyone to dare upsetting Batman, but looking around it looked like the boys were an exception.

Clark started by dismantling some of the existing structure. It took some assurance from him to convince the boys that they could put it back together any way they wanted, but they knew to trust him and his powers. They spent a good hour working on their fortress, even making it large enough for Clark to move around it without needing to crawl.

Once they were finished, Dick and Tim turned their full attention to Superman and his abilities. If Clark was being honest with himself, he enjoyed the way they fawned over him once he started dropping hints to just how much he could do. The super speed and flying were their favorites and he even gave them a small ride around the office going just fast enough for it to be interesting for them. None of them were brave enough to see what Bruce would do if he caught them flying around Gotham.

Once they were finished with the office, Dick loaned Clark the emergency credit card Bruce had given him to go and find some food for them to eat. He and Tim watched from their window as he flew around the city looking for their favorite Chinese take out. This time he was a little more discreet as he flew around the city and back up to the tower not wanting to draw any attention to himself.

When he finally flew in, the boys invited him to sit sit under inside fort and eat while they waited for Bruce to come back. It was the perfect opportunity for Clark to investigate more about Bruce's personal life. He had to keep it from coming across as suspicious, an act he had honed as a reporter, and simply asked, "How's Mr. Wayne? It's been awhile since I've seen him."

"He's fine, but he's working right now." It wasn't a question Dick was very interested it, so he asked, "How do you know him? He's never mentioned knowing you before."

Clark didn't doubt that, he might not have even fully confessed his night job to the boys, so instead he told them about some embarrassing situations Bruce had found himself in. It seemed to be the right move because the boys forgot the fact that he hadn't answered the questions and listened intently for any new information about their father. Even when Clark ran out of stories that aren't too incriminating, the boys took over with embarrassing stories of their own. Embarrassing parties, embarrassing school trips, even embarrassing birthdays and Superman was definitely going to spread this around the Watchtower.

Unable to hold his curiosity in any longer, Tim eventually repeated Dick's question. "Why are you here? You never answered before."

Not entirely sure how much Bruce would be okay with him confessing, Clark went with something vague enough to not give too much away. "Oh, um, I had a to talk to your dad about some League business."

That pulled Dick's attention away from playing with his cape. "The league? You mean the Justice League? Dad knows the Justice League?"

Now, Clark felt like he'd dug himself into a hole. The boys had no clue was Bruce did in his free time and it might go on to bite him in the ass later. "Yeah, he does help us with some stuff every now and then. Mostly he's involved with money stuff and PR."

"Has he met everyone in the League?"

Feigning a contemplating look, Clark said, "I think he's met most of the main League members. I can't really say either way for sure."

A little more serious, Tim asked, "Has he met Flash?"

Clark felt a smile crawling up his face. He should have considered that the boys would be interested in superheroes outside of Batman. It just seemed like Bruce would be careful to make sure that he stayed their favorite. "Why? Is Flash a favorite of yours?"

Now Tim had a little blush on his face before explaining, "I just think it's so cool how fast Flash can go. I saw him running up a building once and I couldn't even see most of him, it was just one big blur." Thinking with a deep look on his face, Tim said, "He's not my favorite favorite though. That's Batman."

"Yeah Bruce has met Flash before. They don't really get along well, but they run into each other a lot." He laughed a little to himself for making the joke but the others seemed to miss it.

"Has he met Green Lantern?" Dick knew Flash and Green Lantern were close, he had seen them together enough, and it wouldn't be hard to think Bruce might have met both.

When Clark told them about this conversation, he knew Barry and Hal were going to be ecstatic. Any hero would be to know Batman's own sons held him or her in such high regard. "Yes, he has met Green Lantern." Deciding to take things one step farther, Clark told the boys, "Actually, I think both of them, Flash and Lantern, would love to meet you two. They love seeing new fans."

Bruce found the extra key to his office just in time to catch what he assumed the boys leap up in excitement underneath the sheet they were using as a roof for their fort. It took him a few moments to get past the blockade they had formed around the door, but he was used to them using the same approach when they were trying to keep him out of their rooms. At first he didn't think too much of the mess, he knew the boys would come up with something to keep themselves occupied, but a third, much larger, figure was visible underneath the same sheets. He cautiously decided to draw their attention to him and hoped the situation wasn't as dangerous as it could have been."Boys, I'm sorry the meeting ran lon-"

Before he could even finish, Dick and Tim ran out of their fort and toward his side. "Daddy, you didn't say you know Superman!"

"Yeah! Why didn't you mention that you knew the Justice League?"

Bruce had been expecting a strange conversation, but not one about the League. It was a subject he had done very well to avoid bringing up. "What are you two talking about?"

Everything made sense when Superman came out from underneath the fort and gave him a bright smile. "Hello, Mr. Wayne. It's nice to see you again."

Bruce wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was annoyed by Clark's presence. He might not have been an assassin or villain, but he knew how to make Bruce's life harder than it needed to be. Through slit eyes and with a harsher tone than the kids were used to hearing, Bruce asked, "What are you doing here?"

Clark didn't miss the way the boys reacted to the sharp tone. They definitely hadn't heard him as Batman before, but that was a topic for Bruce to confess in his own time. "I came by for League business and met your two sons. While we waited for you I got us something to eat and we finished working on the fort and got around to talking. I just finished telling them how Flash and Green Lantern would love to meet them."

Bruce tried incredibly hard to keep the strain out of his voice, but even then the only thing he could manage was, "Oh really?"

Incredibly proud of the fact that he had such an effect on Bruce, Clark added, "If you want, I can coordinate a meeting with everyone. Flash and Lantern always love meeting fans."


	3. Learning Curve I

In the months following Bruce's death, Tim has to reconcile his place in his family and once Bruce is back, it's going to take a lot more not fix the broken relationships in the family

 **Learning Curve I**

* * *

Alfred rushed to the door as soon as he heard the bell echoing through the foyer. He had been mindlessly pacing behind the door for the last half hour, not wanting to risk missing the doorbell ring.

The house was mostly empty, he had pushed most of the occupants out on an errand run so they could have some privacy, but now the silence only made him feel more anxious. For the past few months the silence had almost became deafening for him and reminiscent of the years following the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Last time he had been unable to stop Bruce from himself, the way his life became about nothing other than the mission, but this was his chance to do more for Tim.

Standing behind the front door, Alfred forced himself to calm down before greeting his guest. As polite as ever, he welcomed Leslie to the Manor. "It's nice to see you Dr. Thompkins. Please come in."

"Hello, Alfred. It's nice to see you too." Unlike most of the people that passed through Wayne Manor, she didn't take any time to admire the architecture or establish any small talk before getting to business. "How are you feeling? Any changes you've been noticing in the past few days?"

"I'm fine ma'am. How are you?" Alfred asked politely while still ignoring her question.

"I'm good."

Alfred mechanically nodded to show that he heard her response before ushering her deeper into the house. Leading the way to the more residential parts of the Manor, he couldn't help but ask, "Did you see anyone you know on your way here?"

Leslie never imagined Alfred being as paranoid as the rest of his family, but she knew better than to be too surprised by anything in their company. In the time she had been in with the family she had seen many times over that they loved to ask questions. She quickly went through her short journey from her clinic in Crime Alley to the driveway of the Manor before she answered, "Um, no. None."

Leslie thought Alfred looked far too pleased by a simple answer, but she didn't want to focus too much about it. This was a stressful time in Gotham and it would sense for them to be more on edge than usual.

When he saw Leslie give him a questioning look as they passed the library where she took most of the family's meetings, Alfred explained, "I'll lead you to Master Tim. His bedroom isn't too far away."

She tried to clear up, "Timothy? I thought I was here to talk to you? That's what you said over the phone." Lack of information was common when working for bats, but lies from Alfred were a whole new level of paranoia.

Alfred didn't have the modesty to look ashamed for the deception. "Master Timothy doesn't know I called you and I couldn't have you mentioning to anyone that you were coming for him. Considering the responsibilities that he has accumulated over the past few weeks, I wanted to save him from the media frenzy that would surely come with with the knowledge he was taking private meetings with a doctor."

It didn't surprise her that Alfred would try to protect Tim, but she had to ask, "Is he still acting compulsively? Is he still going out at night?" At his hesitance to respond Leslie had her answer and she tried not to sound too astounded when she said, "He has always recovered faster than I would think healthy, but this is just as concerning." Sighing, she realized, "He's going to need a lot of help, Alfred."

Alfred sighed, looking far closer to his age than he usually did, before he made the final turn and paused in front of what Leslie assumed to be Tim's room. "In his own special way, I do think he is grieving and I'm hoping you can be the help he needs, Dr. Thompkins." Hand gripping the handle on the door, Alfred said, "Master Tim should be."

Stopping Alfred before he could open the door, Leslie asked, "Before I go talk to him, why exactly did you call me? What changed?"

* * *

Tim ignored her for an hour. He sat by the desk looking through books on ancient syntactics and semiotics without even acknowledging that he was in the middle of a therapy appointment. His room was a mess of papers and maps that covered most of the floor, but it seemed to work for him.

Leslie took the time to study Tim and quickly saw that his face had become more defined. She could tell that he wasn't eating much anymore and understood why Alfred was so worried about him. Even outside of the weight loss, Tim's skin looked paler and his nails looked as if he had been chewing on them constantly. There were a few bruises that were a stark contrast to his pale skin, she knew there were more that were hidden, and she could only assume that they came from mistakes from patrolling at night. He didn't look anything like the Robin that dropped by her clinics looking to help if nights were too slow.

Leslie wasn't shocked by the lack of communication either, he had studied under Batman for years after all, but she couldn't wait on him to feel comfortable forever. She would have to get back to her office in a few hours to prepare for the regular junkies that came out looking for help in the morning and she would like to make some progress with the teenager before she would have to help. She was starting to regret not forcing Tim to stay in touch when things had started falling apart but there was no reason to wait any longer.

Thinking back to their many past conversations and what she regretted never mentioning before, Leslie asked about Jack. She cleared her throat as a small warning for Tim before bluntly asking, "Your father used to hit you, right?"

That was enough to get his focus. He nearly dropped out of his seat before he could rebuild his composure and looked at her stunned. With gritted teeth and furrowed eyebrows he demanded to know, "What are you talking about?"

She repeated the question, making sure to stand her ground and break through his shell. "Your father use to hit you when you were younger?"

Tim turned back to his book so he wouldn't have to look at her as he muttered, "Yeah," just loud enough for her to hear. She could pick up on his silent plea to end the conversation there.

Leslie wanted to, she really wanted to stop antagonizing him right there and find a better way to help him, but she had enough experience to know that going easy on him would get him nowhere. Over the past few years she had watched as Tim learned to compartmentalize his feelings and her beating around the bush, especially from someone with her responsibilities, would not help in getting him to open up.

Leslie tried to probe a little farther, wanting to be absolutely sure before she prodded further with more emotional questions. "Like a spanking? A tap whenever you did something wrong?"

Tim wanted to dismiss the issue, not seeing the reason to bring up the ancient past, and made sure to show his frustration when he questioned, "He hit me. Why does it matter to you?"

Ignoring his question, Leslie clarified her understanding of the situation. "He used to punch and beat you."

"It was a complicated relationship," Tim said just low enough for her to hear.

Leslie could easily recognize that Tim still loved his father despite their past. She couldn't find it in herself to be surprised. Tim had never been able to turn his back on people, even when it would be in his best interest. She'd seen it when he was a fresh Robin carrying in the criminals who had tried a few minutes ago to kill him, she'd seen it when he refused to answer her question about bruises that formed where she knew his armor was too strong to penetrate, and she could see it now when he still couldn't bring himself to feel ill will towards someone who had spent the better part of his life hating and abusing him.

She had only met Jack a handful of times, but it was obvious that he tried to keep distance between the two of them. The saddest thing for her was that Tim had always looked as though he was used to it, like he didn't expect anything else from his father.

Looking at the boy's back she offered her opinion ever since she had first met Jack. "It was because you were smarter than he was and he couldn't get over it."

Tim spun around in his chair and glared at her with his eyes glazed over with not yet fully formed tears. "This is crossing the line, Leslie. I'm not a kid anymore and you can't...you just can't treat me like one."

At the very least he wasn't trying to keep on a face anymore, he wasn't trying to act like he was ok. Leslie wasn't interested in talking to Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, the smart young business man inheriting an empire or Robin as he tried to keep Batman from seeing any of his business. This was Tim, growing more like the bat every single day and in need of an emotional outlet that she hoped she could give him.

Leslie let him have some time to process just how he felt on the matter and knowing he was only staring at the page in front of him, not actually reading any of the words. After letting him settle for a few minutes, she began again.

This time not giving him the courtesy of a warning, she stated, "It can't be easy being you. Growing up like you did, without the support or emotional stability a child needs, it can't be easy."

Tim was past trying to hide the fact he was annoyed and tried to force her to drop the conversation. "I told you-"

"I don't mean that. I meant, you know, being inside your head."

Tim was in disbelief. "What's wrong with my head?" A part of him wondered if this was all just a test, a sick joke to make him feel like an idiot, but he knew Leslie wouldn't do that to him. A few other people wouldn't hesitate to, but he hoped Leslie wasn't one of those people.

"I don't know." She had some ideas and professional opinions, but even then she didn't know for sure.

"Of course not." Tim appreciated the honesty, but he couldn't help but want the discussion to end.

She gave him a moment, not long enough for him to get back to his work again but long enough for him to stop thinking about what they had just discussed. She assumed that he hadn't told anyone about the abuse, it wasn't in his nature to put his own problems before others, but it was something he needed to learn.

When she began again, she made sure to hit the right pressure points, the ones she had been building up to.

"They keep moving the goal post on you, don't they?"

Tim sarcastically asked, "Who's they?"

Leslie nonchalantly started listing, "Your father and Bruce. Maybe Alfred and Dick without meaning to. They keep moving the goal post. First you had to get all As, go to a good school, and graduate as valedictorian. Then it moved even farther with completing Bruce's training, becoming Robin, helping Batman and trying to be a worthy sidekick much less a good one. Forming and leading Young Justice, reforming the Titans, getting accepted to good schools. Now you have to find Bruce, run Wayne Enterprise, and keep the city clean as a Robin without Batman. Everyone just keeps moving the goalpost on you."

"It's not good for a person to keep setting goal?" Tim asked.

"Probably is," she agreed, but not without adding, "But it's tricky for someone still trying to find a father to love him more than he hates him."

He didn't want to satisfy her with his reaction, she'd gone far too out of bounds for him to drop things that easily. Ignoring her response, he said, "Well, I think it's better to keep pushing myself. At least I'm not like most people, always wishing for something but never actually trying for it."

"Yeah, but that's most people. That's not you, that's the other people, the ones who feel stress."

"I feel stress."

Leslie shook her head and explained, "Not like others. You're different. You think you're destined for something great, maybe like proving that Bruce is still alive, and you have an opportunity to show everyone."

"Yeah. I think I can bring him back."

She knew she'd gone far enough and instead pivoted the conversation to something else, something just as important. "That room I passed down the hall on the left, whose was it? It was right across the hall from the master room."

Appreciating the much lighter topic, Tim easily answered, "I think you're talking about Dick's old room. He sleeps there at night. Well, nights where he can get sleep."

"Right." She let him be confused with the situation before commenting, "This is a hell of a curve you're getting graded on now. Dick was Bruce's first son, the one that started his family. No matter how much you might like to think otherwise, he was someone you had to compete with for Bruce's love." She could see that he was waiting for her to say something new, something he didn't already know, and she loudly sighed before saying, "Now what have you done, Tim? A productive career as Robin, a decrease in the crime rate to one of the lowest it has ever been, and taking over Wayne Enterprises?"

She could only imagine what Tim must have thought about her now. His face went from unexpressive to tortured in the span of a few seconds and she knew he was close to crying.

"That's wasn't easy," Tim said defensively. He felt backed into a corner, still not wanting to look the least bit emotional, but it hurt her too see him like this. She moved off the bed, to his side, and took his hand, just now noticing the bags under his eyes.

"Okay."

"It's wasn't easy," Tim repeated desperately. His voice was failing and his pleas weren't working. He couldn't get her to believe him and he wasn't too sure that he believed himself.

Cementing her place by his side, Leslie looked him straight in the eye, not wanting him to forget anything she said. This was her final push and she had to make sure she didn't miscalculate anything she said.

"I think you've spent the past few years trying to win Bruce over and see you like a son. I think Dick, he does what he wants even if it makes Bruce angry. He knows that Bruce loved him and couldn't find it in his heart to hate him no matter what he does. I think you always wanted that. You wanted Bruce to be the father you never had, a father that loved you more than he hurt you, but then you had to face the fact that you settled for him simply acknowledged you. You settled and now you don't have anyone."

He gritted his teeth and talked with in a low grumble before he argued, "You don't know anything. I'm not trying to get Bruce to love me like he does Dick."

"Good, because that's never, never, happen. He's dead and you can't change how things ended. You can't change how he felt."

Finding that he didn't have enough energy to fight her anymore, Tim rested his head on her shoulder and tried to make himself appreciate the silence while he had it.

She had gotten what she wanted. For the first time in who know how long Tim wasn't forcing himself to find clues that weren't there and if she was going to get incredibly lucky he might even get some sleep.

In any case, there was nothing more for her to do and as she rose from her place at his side, Leslie informed Tim, "We're done for the night."

"What?" Just as he was beginning to feel comfortable around her she was leaving.

She grabbed her bag and coat before placing a hand on his shoulder. "I've been here for 2 hours, Tim. We're done for the night, but we can make this a regular thing."

"Leslie."

Speaking primarily as a friend concerned about his health, Leslie put a hand to his cheek feeling just how tired he was when he leaned in. She let herself smile before saying, "I want to help you, Tim, I really do. You need to learn to take care of yourself and more than anything you need to let Bruce go. It's too much baggage for someone to take on by themselves. He's dead and nothing is going to change that."

Tim closed his book and followed her out of the room, right on her tail. "Leslie. I know he's still alive. I just know it."

"Look, Tim, you have my number. I want you to drop by the clinic once a week." Leslie stressed, "You aren't taking care of yourself and it's my job to make sure you're healthy."

Tim shook his head, finally letting his tears fall while he tried to explain to her, "He's still alive, Leslie. I know it."

"I want you to start taking care of yourself before you even start thinking about Bruce."


	4. Answers

Fluff about Bruce's relationship with Dick and Tim and how much it meant to all of them to hear 'I love you' (based off a Code Geass fic by DnKS-giRLs)

 **Answers**

* * *

Bruce Wayne's first memory of his boys was eerily depressing. Dick's face when he saw his parents fall to their deaths will forever be etched in his brain as the face of disbelief, pain, and fear. It reminded him far too much of his own experience decades ago.

Tim was a little different. He was asleep, practically passed out, in his bed and all Bruce could think was he was too small. Too small to be an orphan, too small to have to deal with this kind of sorrow, too small to have to make some of the hardest decisions of his life. Hearing Dick try to explain their situation and Tim's inability to comprehend death was almost too much for Bruce, a grilling reminder that he was still human and couldn't always fix everything.

Although he still doesn't completely understand how, pretty soon the pain gave way and he was shown two of the most amazing people he even had the liberty of meeting. When the time for mourning had come to pass, the two were almost unrecognizable, the embodiment of hyperactivity and innocence.

Every time he walked into the manor he was greeted with bright blue eyes and giant smiles. As soon as he sat down the two would demand his full attention, not leaving out any details of their day and wanting to know everything about his. It was undoubtedly one of the greatest periods of Bruce's life.

And then they joined his mission.

Their curiosity lead them into the BatCave, exposing Bruce's most cherished secret and introducing the two to their favorite hero.

Bruce did not quite understand why the two seemed so eager to take part in his mission. Dick one day joined his workout, he sneaked up behind him and tried to recreate his movements and poses. Acting like the good father he so much wanted to be, Bruce tried to push him away, keep him out of the battle that would surely cost them so much. He changed the security code to the cave, denied the two any attention when they asked about his night job, refused to let them join in what was meant to be one of the greatest mistakes of their lives. No matter how hard he tried, Bruce couldn't miss their determination and drive and the only thing holding him back was the fact that eight was far too young to join the war.

History was doomed to repeat itself as Dick snuck in more and more, trying his hardest to emulate Batman while at the same time not letting the darkness consume his own jovial spirit. Tim was not yet ready to undergo the same training, too young to even try some of the tricks his older brother was happy to show off, so instead he focused on the questions that came with cases.

Leaning over on the worktable, Tim asked with strained eyes why there were bullet shells scattered everywhere. Although at first he tried to ignore the questions, Bruce couldn't help but explain to the three year old exactly how the design could be traced to certain manufacturers and if they had that information they could see exactly who bought the bullets and who probably fired them. Bruce didn't miss those deep blue eyes seeping in all of the information, probably hiding it away somewhere never to forget it. Sometimes Dick would join in the explanations, but he much more preferred flying around the cave and teaching his little brother everything he'd learned from their parents.

Despite his best efforts, it became a tradition for their little family. The two would join him in the cave after dinner almost everyday, even when there was no case to work on or route to patrol. And he did not mind that, not at all. It was nothing but endearing to have those big eyes directed at him, to see those smiles given to him, to notice how that smooth foreheads wrinkle at some difficult term he mentioned.

"How come you never miss when you take down a criminal?" asked a nine year old Dick while they were looking over a tape of the previous night's patrol. Bruce sighed and showed him the scars that came from his training, the mark where Ra's Al Ghul had stabbed him with his sword or the wound left by a piece of shrapnel from one of Joker's bombs. The mark on his arm where one of Penguin's goons had gotten a lucky shot in or the burn around his ankle from Poison Ivy's vines. Looking at the scars, Bruce saw a flood of sympathy in Dick's eyes, how he was trying to comprehend how someone as seemingly perfect as Batman was able to be wounded. Bruce knew that if they wanted to be involved they had to know everything that came with the mission, especially the failures.

"Why are the police in Gotham so incompetent?" The last word came out strained, laced with malice as they watched a police officer make a deal with one of Two-Face's gangs. Bruce explained to Tim exactly how the police had become an institution riddled with corruption, the same as most of the city. He explained how there were city officials dedicated to helping Gotham, but most of the time it was the worst of the worst shone through. Bruce stressed that it was their job to be an example of the best of Gotham, everything that resonated justice and gave the people hope. Hope that their futures wouldn't be dictated by the lives of the crooked, that there was good in Gotham.

There was no one way to describe the time the three spent together. The questions and explanations ranged from everything Bruce had been taught in his training. He described how to identify the many different fighting styles and later just how to master them, working until they could switch between any of the techniques with the flinch of their opponent's muscle. He explained the many ways someone can show that he or she is lying and exactly how to hide it on their own faces. He sketched out the most popular architectural styles all over the world and the best ways to dismantle them, the weakness that would guarantee the them structural failure.

No matter how much time went on, Bruce was still ambushed with their curious questions daily. Even when the boys had to go to the many galas held for charity, he was pulled aside and asked about the lives of the socialites: who was a criminal, who had foreign bank accounts, who was here to genuinely help the needy, and who just wanted to get on Bruce's good side. It always surprised Bruce how the boys were able to juggle the intense training, school, and a social life. Even before he knew they would take up their own mantles, they stuck to him daily and at the very least tried to keep him entertained with their questions.

Sometimes he was sure that there was nothing keeping him from suffocating in the darkness more than the genuine smiles that came from the boys.

One question in particular caught him off guard.

"Why do you always answer our question? Doesn't it ever get annoying?"

Upon being asked, Bruce wrapped his sons into an embrace and said in perfect honesty declared multiple times, "Because I love you more than anything else."

The blush that warmed their cheeks was the only thing Bruce needed to see to know the feeling was mutual. Although they never said anything in return, he could tell from the way their faces never stopped changing color that they appreciated his declaration. It was the one question they asked repeatedly and his answer never changed. There was never any hesitation in his voice, never any need to question whether his feelings were genuine.

Years passed by and nothing changed. The two grew up beautifully, earning Bruce's complete trust. Bruce watched his little children's progress with a pride that was only a father could understand. They were going to surpass even him in due time, but not before their own roadblocks.

In the end, no amount of experience could prevent the battles and injuries and tears and trauma that Gotham always brought with her.

Having to carry an injured Robin into the cave was a rude awakening for Bruce. He remembered how guilty he felt watching Alfred hook the boy up to the medical gear, looking a lot smaller than he ever had before. Tim rushed out to his brother, sitting by him for hours at a time. Bruce watched him cement his place next to his brother, still holding onto his hand when he woke up the next day. He wasted no time going through every step they had made on patrol, examining every mistake he had made so it never happened again.

Approaching the boy later that first night, Bruce did the only thing that could help. He gathered Tim into his embrace, making sure not to break his hold of his brother, and let the boy's sobs shake his chest as he tried to coax him into sleep. His boys were far too talented, far too gentle to be tainted by the fear of death. His youngest son was far too precious to him to leave him crying alone in the dark like that.

"Tim," he called softly, "it's going to be okay."

"They…they really hurt him. He must be so scared," Tim choked. Looking up to Bruce with unshed tears glazing his eyes, he asked, "Do you think I go out with you next time? Just so I can be there. I don't have to be fighting, just being there and watching."

"The world can be a horrible place with horrible people in it, Tim, and they will do whatever it takes to get to you. I can't risk letting even more people get hurt when even Dick can get injured like this. It's still going to be some time before Dick and I are convinced you won't get hurt. That you won't die. Because you could, Tim, and if that ever happened to either one of you, I don't know what I would do. I don't know if I could ever be the same person again." he answered. He knew this wasn't the answer Tim wanted, he wanted to be able to protect his older brother the same way he protected him, but it was the best way to keep him safe. With a kiss to Tim's messy hair, Bruce rubbed circles into his back and held him until he started to feel drowsy.

He wanted to stop, to let the boy fall asleep with a happier thought, but once he began the words just poured out of his mouth. With a sarcastic chuckle he added, "I honestly don't know if I'd be able to feel happy again, to smile, if you two were killed. I mean, it's been almost thirty years since my parents died and I've felt my happiest around you two. It's you who's keeping me human, Tim. You and Dick. I might be a little selfish, but I can't stand the thought of you two getting hurt. I mean, it's not like I could ever find someone else to pull me out of the hell I would fall in if I had to live knowing you died."

It was somber and it was brutal, but what surprised Bruce was that it was true. There was absolutely nothing that could bring him out of the darkness if the two boys in front of him died.

"Why Dick?" Tim murmured almost asleep. "Why him?"

"Dick wants to help people, Tim, and sometimes that will put him at risk."

Tim whimpered in his arms before falling silent and Bruce almost thought his son had finally surrendered to exhaustion. Yet his suspicion was proven false when those too blue eyes looked up at him from within his embrace. With a serious look on his face, Tim asked, "Why do you always answer my questions?"

And as always, Bruce wrapped his arms around Tim, so very tight as if he would never let him go, and answered with the utmost honesty he could find in him, "Because I love you, Tim. I love you both."

* * *

Bruce took his role as a father much more seriously after that. He made sure to be invested in everything in their lives, letting them know that no matter what he would support them. When he went to their school activities he was the loudest one in the room. When Dick decided to take up football, Bruce was at every single game and when Tim was able to come he face painted Dick's number on his cheek. When Tim wanted to learn how to play the piano, Bruce spent hours finding the perfect one for him and had one of the rooms of the manor converted into a studio.

Even then there were times when the two just needed someone to hold them, time when they were as human as anyone else. There was the occasional argument, the occasional mood swing, but Bruce took it all gracefully. Parenting was sticking through the bad parts and he would be there for them no matter how many times were upset with him.

Sometimes they were too afraid to approach him with their problems and sometimes they threw themselves into his arms as soon as they saw him. Sometimes they held onto the batsuit and sometimes they refused to talk to him until he took the cowl off. Sometimes their eyes were the brightest things in their world and sometimes they were glossed with pain he never wanted to see again. Sometimes his room was the source of the loudest noises the two were capable of, the screams and laughs as they chased each other around the bed and begged for his company before they fell asleep and sometimes it felt like the loneliest place in the world knowing they were across the hall but still so far away.

Maybe they felt something similar. Maybe they had made a similar oath to protect Bruce and that was why they stuck with him through everything. Why they comforted him when he was dosed with fear toxin and hearing his father berate him for taking two small boys into his mission. Why they agreed when he locked them out of the cave for a full week because sometimes there were cases he didn't want them seeing. Why they joined in when he invited them into his room for the night because sometimes he just needed them there to know they were real, that they weren't too good to be true.

One of the worst nightmares he'd ever had nothing to do with his mission, it was him never meeting the boys that meant the world to him. He woke up thinking about what could have happened to them if he hadn't taken them in. What if it had been either of them on the line, just practicing or joking around when it finally gave way? What if they were actually better off without him, without the emotional constipation and mission? What if they grew to resent him for not trying harder to push them away from Batman?

So sometimes he invited them to sleep with him because he needed them as much as they needed him and if he had to wake up to the occasional wet sheet or so be it.

When Tim first went out, Bruce and Dick followed him out everywhere. The last thing they wanted was for the boy to end up hurt, the same hurt they'd grown accustomed to after the many times they had to spend nights in the cave recovering from patrol. So they followed him. They made sure he was never more than a few yards away from them and had a tracker in his cloths. When he left Gotham to join his own team, they made sure Tim contacted them at least once a day and reported everything that was going on and any injury he might have received from missions.

To be honest, Bruce didn't know how Tim didn't feel suffocated, didn't feel like his brother and his father were over protective. He took their treatment gracefully, not fighting just smiling along and letting them know what the limits were. Bruce didn't find his answer until he overheard a conversation between Tim and Alfred.

"I must say, Master Timothy, you don't seem to be disturbed by Master Bruce and Master Dick's constant need for attention."

His youngest son let out a small laugh before explaining, "They love me, Alfred, and this is their best way of showing it. They know what the boundaries are and they never test them. It's almost like how you ship out food and fresh cloths because you want to be sure we're taking care of ourselves."

* * *

Apparently he played his cards well. The boys stuck with him for years.

The night they first called him 'Dad' would forever live in his memory. It's one of the reasons he put in cameras into his room, so he could capture moments like these and watch them forever. He'd never forget how the two crawled into his room and demanded that he let them sleep with him, taking their respective places at his side and curling into his embrace.

Laying his head on Bruce's chest, his favorite spot to hear his heartbeat, Tim couldn't help but ask with a chuckle in his voice, "Why are you two protective?"

Tim already knew the answer, but he just wanted to hear it again and it was far too easy for Bruce to cave into the silent demand.

"Because you two are the most important people in my life and I can't help but want to prevent you from getting hurt."

Dick joined in with an identical smile, "Is that why you always keep track of us?"

"Well, of course." Bruce said. "I want to keep you as safe as possible."

"Why?" his youngest asked with his soft voice.

Bruce smiled. "Because I want to protect you and Dick forever."

"Why did you want to protect us?"

"Because you two are my children whom I cherish very much."

Looking down at the two on his chest, Bruce could easily read how relieved they were to hear that.

"Why do you always answer our questions, Dad?"

For the first time in far too long, Bruce was stunned into silence before he laid a kiss to their hair and firmly announced, "Because I love you."

* * *

Surprisingly enough, he wasn't alone in his caring for the two boys. The Justice League took a firm liking to the only people able to break Bruce's cold shell. Slowly, they became the aunts and uncles Bruce never wanted around his children but couldn't keep away.

Clark came around twice a month, updating the boys on the happenings of Metropolis and never forgetting to drop that he was Superman. Even when Bruce would've thought they'd outgrown such things, the boys went on piggie back rides around Gotham; Kent always dropped them off with a goofy grin on their faces and wind blown hair that stuck out every which way. Afterwards, Superman couldn't help but gloat about how he was the favorite (only) uncle, practically asking for the others to join in and try to take his place.

Diana took the opportunity to show the two her invisible jet, even letting them join her for a ride. She showed them some fighting moves she'd learned with the Amazons and let them use her lasso, pleasantly surprised when it worked.

Barry and Hal tag teamed, showing off just how much they knew about science and jets. They also got them into pranks, giving them ideas of the best ways to surprise Bruce. He wanted to feel sorry for the two, they were far too afraid to pull off the pranks themselves and hid behind the fact that he could never be angry at his sons, but it was hard when his car was redecorated to look like a tribute to Flash and Green Lantern. Looking back, Dick might have been more interest in Wally than the two heroes, but that was still not enough of a reason to let him visit Central City.

Oliver introduced himself during a charity function, getting just tipsy enough to have the boys laughing throughout the entire night. Bruce was sure there were some jokes that went over Tim's head, but nonetheless the boy giggles along.

Arthur told them stories about Atlantis and his job as the king, never forgetting to mention just how strong he was or the scary creatures that lurked beneath the sea. There were some parts that didn't seem to plausible for Bruce, but he wasn't able to prove any lies.

* * *

With Dick at twenty and Tim at fifteen, he couldn't help but lean back and marvel at how beautifully the two had grown. The questions had stopped for the most part, but the long nights in the cave were something Bruce couldn't imagine living without.

Even with his night job, Dick was a respected officer, one of the few good ones in Gotham. People trusted him in his uniform and as Nightwing, something very few heroes are able to accomplish. He and Wally had been dating for three years and if he was half as good of a detective as he thought, the two were about to be more than boyfriends soon. Bruce knew he should have come up with some reasons to keep the speedster away from his little boy.

Dick had a charm that rubbed off on everyone who had the honor of meeting him and he remained as committed to his friends and family as ever.

Tim was one of the smartest people Bruce had ever meet, going toe to toe with some of the biggest villains in Gotham. He had taken an interest in Wayne Enterprises, helping Bruce forge some paperwork and 'interning' to make sure there wasn't anything he was missing when he went out of town for a mission. There were many people who saw him as one of Gotham's future leaders, someone who was going to be a hero at all times of the day. Despite everything Bruce had learned dealing with Wally and Dick, Bruce couldn't keep the Kent boy far from Tim for too long. There was some romance blooming at only Alfred's cold stares broke him away from his ideas of stopping it before it got too serious.

Tim was still growing, but if his current self was any indication, he was going to be a dedicated hero with one of the largest hearts Bruce had ever seen.

* * *

Finished peeling off the kevlar armor and smell of Gotham's underground, Bruce looked up to see two identical eyes staring back at him. Their cobalt blue irises shone with enough amusement and liveliness to envy anything Bruce had ever seen. Sparing a small look to the other and then forming almost identical smirks, the two asked, "Did we do well?"

He shifted in his seat smiled a little unsure about the question. He wouldn't put it past them to be using this as a diversion for a prank. "You did very well. You always do"

Fingering the mask in his hands with a serene smile on his face, Dick asked, "Do you remember how we used to ask you a ton of questions, anything that could cross our minds." Bruce smiled at the memories, wishing the boys were still dependent on him and quickly washing away the thought with guilt. "I remember being amazed with just how much you knew, how you could answer everything that came to our attention. You were never impatient, always the kindest person in the world. And every time we asked why you did all this, you answered because you loved us."

Taking over for his brother, Tim leaned closer and with his far too blue eyes lock onto his, asked, "Why do you love us?"

Sitting in the silence, many possibilities ran through his head. He could say it was because they were his sons, he could say it was impossible to find someone who didn't love them, and he could say it was because they reminded him of the person he wanted to be. It wouldn't be hard to tell them any of this, but they were all lies.

He loved the two for absolutely no reason.

For the first time in his life, Bruce admitted, "I don't know."

The answer caught both of them off guard, but not before Dick could chuckle, "Well, I guess we finally found a question you don't know the answer to."

Bruce agreed, but added, "I guess so, but I hope I didn't disappoint you. It wouldn't do well for a father to disappoint his sons."

Not skipping a beat, Tim sincerely added, "You could never disappoint us. It's never happened and it never will."

Not trying to hide the slight confusion on his face, Bruce practically blurted out, "Why?"

And Bruce's heart practically stood still while the two leaned in to kiss a side of his cheek and declare, "Because we love you, Dad."

There was nothing Bruce could do to hide the heat rising to his cheeks or forget the satisfied expression of the boys faces, as if they were proud of the reaction they had extracted out of him. As soon as he was alone again, almost a full day later as the boys decided they once again wanted to sleep with their dad, he rushed to the cave and reviewed the moment. He must have heard those five words a thousand times, memorized how it looked to have boys kissing his cheeks, before he saved the recording in a dozen different places. There was a flash card he burned the file on, one he promised himself to never lose.

Falling asleep in his bed, Bruce couldn't stop the smile forming at the edges of his lips.

Because his sons loved him.


	5. Learning Curve II

Bruce groaned as he tried to force his eyes to open against the bright light urging him out of unconsciousness. He had very little idea of where he was, very little idea of what he was doing, and Bruce pushed himself to his side in an effort to confront whatever was waiting for him.

As soon as he made an effort to move his body screamed it's opposition and he was forced to fall back into the position that had felt so much better a few moments ago. He tried to collect his mind and remember anything that could explain where he was, but it all just came up to a blank. All he could remember was struggling against something, someone, and a bright light and he contemplated whether or not he was dead.

It didn't take long for his eyes to adjust to the light and he was able to open them just in time to see a figure walk into the cave he found himself occupying. It was different from the one under the Manor, the wall looked untouched and the lack of squeaks coming from bats overhead left him with a deafening silence, but he tried to focus on the person he watched dig through some bags.

Soon he heard Tim's soft voice cut through the silence and explain, "Superman's on his way. He'll get you to a hospital soon so they can look you over," Turning to look him in the eye, he asked, "Do you remember everything?"

Not wanting to look any more weak than he actually was, Bruce forced himself to sit up. With a rough voice he probably wouldn't recognize as his, Bruce said, "I think so. How long was I away?"

Rummaging through his pack for some more medical tape, Tim curtly replied, "You were in another time for a little over six months and you've been sleeping in here for about an hour."

He quickly got to work rewrapping Bruce's wounds and making sure there was nothing that had gone untreated or reopened in the few minutes he was outside. Bruce didn't know if it was because of the darkness of the cave or something that had happened in the months he had been away, but he couldn't help but notice the differences between the Tim he had left and the one before him. While he tried to imagine what could have caused such a drastic change, Bruce began to feel the weight of the awkward silence and had to ask, "What's taking Clark so long? He should have been here by now."

Tim look uncomfortable and he refused to look Bruce in the eye as he muttered, "He's going to take some time."

"Why?"

Moving to Bruce's back so that the older man couldn't' see the hurt on his face, Tim said, "He doesn't really believe me. He thinks I'm imagining everything."

Bruce worked out, "He thinks you're imagining me?"

Making sure his voice didn't betray him, Tim explained with a forced lightness to his voice, "Yeah I'm the only one who thinks you're alive. Everyone else thinks you died six months ago and that I'm crazy for looking for you."

"They think I died?"

Finally done checking for injuries, Tim moved to pack up the medical equipment and added, "Yeah there was a funeral and everything."

Just looking at the boy before him, Bruce knew the world he was going back into was much different from the one he left and he had to ask, "What happened while I was gone?"

Tim took a deep breath and forced out, "Dick is Batman right now. Well, he's Nightwing wearing the suit and cowl. Dick's been trying to get me to go to Arkham for a while, but I've fought him off."

Shocked, Bruce repeated, "Dick wants to send you to Arkham?"

Finding it a lot harder to meet Bruce's scrutiny than he had imagined, Tim tried not to sound hurt when he said, "Dick sort of thought I was crazy after I tried to convince him you were alive. He wanted to put me in Arkham so I could see a doctor, but I just left before he could do anything. I...He and I aren't that close anymore."

Bruce didn't know how to respond, Tim looked tired enough that he might not be all that aware of what he was saying, so he tried to find a way out of the awkward conversation and offered, "Let me call Clark. He'll hurry over when he hears my voice."

Happy to be done with the conversation, Tim took out his com link before redialing for Clark and putting it to Bruce's hands.

Immediately they heard Superman's voice say, "Tim I'll be th-"

Bruce cut him off asking, "Clark? Where are you?"

Before he could even finish the sentence, a streak of red and blue made it's way to the foot of the cave and Bruce had to protect his eyes from the dust flying around.

Uncharacteristically scared, Clark asked, "Bruce?"

Smiling up at his old friend, Bruce let himself laugh as he said, "Yeah, I know. Six months has been a long time hasn't it?"

Clark turned to face Tim and looked for some indication that he was seeing the real Bruce and as soon as he was given a curt nod, he encased him in a hug.

Keeping in mind to avoid his injuries, Clark squeezed Bruce and babbled on, "I can't believe it. I honestly can't believe it. I thought...Oh god, I honestly didn't think I would ever get the chance to see you again. I thought you were gone forever."

There was a brotherly moment between the two and Tim stood to the side so that he wouldn't' interrupt, but after a while he had to say, "Superman, it would still be great if you could take Bruce to the hospital. I was able to treat most of it but it would be better if he saw a doctor."

Before he knew it he was the only one left in the small cave. Superman had carried Bruce out of the cave and to what Tim assumed would be Watchtower Medical Ward. As soon as he was alone, Tim started packing up a few of the stray equipment scattered around the cave while he thought about whether or not he should start calling the others. He had been telling the truth when he told Bruce that he didn't' talk to Dick anymore, but that didn't mean he shouldn't inform them that he was back. At the very least it wouldn't' hurt to call Alfred as the two of them were still on speaking terms and he could disseminate the information to the others.

Before he could decide on a plan, the blue streak returned and his work was undone as stray equipment flew everywhere.

Looking just as messy as the rest of the cave, Clark asked, "Tim, do you want me to take you to Bruce? I can fly you up."

Not wanting to ruin what would probably be a touching moment between Bruce and his old friends, the teenager assured him, "It's ok. There's some stuff I have to finish up anyway so you don't have to worry. I'll find my own way back."

Clark didn't really believe him, South America was a long way from Gotham, so he quickly packed up everything he could find and organized it in Tim's bag before hooking the boy in his arm and flying him out to the Watchtower. Tim sighed at the feeling but he knew to expect as much from the boy scout.

* * *

Sitting in the waiting room, no one really knew what to do. Of course they were all excited, Bruce was back, but the group of superheroes were lost as to what they were supposed to say to someone they had called crazy for the last six months.

Tim had been able to inform everyone of Bruce's return but there wasn't much he could, or wanted to, say to anyone in the room. Sitting against the wall closest to Bruce's room, he kept his distance from Dick in particular. He only ever talked to inform the doctors about Bruce's state when he pulled him into their time stream for a few moments before he opened his laptop to begin writing up a report.

At first Tim didn't bother taking a seat, he was prepared to leave as soon as he got the green light from the doctor, but he had been asked to stay behind for any questions that the staff might have in dealing with this strange situation and he promptly took a seat on the floor and turned his attention elsewhere.

Across the room, Dick stole glances at Tim. He was trying to find his little brother inside the new suit, but Tim acted as if he was the alone in the room and ignored any contact outside what was absolutely necessary.

Unable to bare the silence any longer, Dick tried to sound jovial and asked something he had been thinking about ever since Clark had called the Manor to inform them that Bruce was in fact alive. "Timmy, how exactly did you find Bruce? What happened?"

Tim glanced in his direction for a moment before he returned his gaze to his computer and explained, "I've been looking into it the moment he was declared dead and it really wasn't that hard with a little help."

Creasing his eyebrows under the mask, Dick asked, "Help? From who?" As far as he knew there weren't any members of the league who had believed Tim so it was important for him to know who he should thank for helping his little brother find Bruce.

Tim sighed, preparing himself for the strong reaction that was sure to come, and answered, "Ra's."

That got the attention of everyone in the room. They were all well aware of the Demon's past and how dangerous he could be and the fact that one of Bruce's children would work with him was unthinkable.

Dick mirrored everyone else's reaction but tried not to be too harsh when he asked, "Ra's al Ghul? Why him?"

"He was the only one who believed me," Tim said dismissively. This was probably the least important part of the whole situation and it didn't really matter if it meant Bruce was back.

"That doesn't mean you should have gone to him for help."

Tim didn't like that he had to defend himself a few moments after he had just brought Dick's father back, but he said, "I didn't really go to him, Dick, he found me and offered some help I couldn't really refuse."

Shaking his head unbelieving, Dick questioned, "Why was he looking for you?"

Tim sighed, "He wanted me to be his heir and he thought that helping me find Bruce would somehow help me join him."

"Tim!"

Closing his laptop and giving him a tired look, Tim said, "I know, Dick, I know. After I was fully recovered and had the information I needed I left."

"Recovered? Recovered from what?" Tim really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. In only a short few minutes he had gone from bringing Bruce back to having to face Dick's scrutiny once again. Considering how things had ended the last time, Tim wanted to get through this as soon as possible.

Stuffing his laptop in his bag to avoid looking at Dick, Tim muttered, "I…I lost my spleen."

Dick leapt out of his chair and exclaimed, "What the hell, Tim. You should've come to us."

Tim rose up from his seat to look him in the eye and say, "I didn't really have the option now did I?"

Taking a step back and trying to defend himself, Dick promised him, "It's not like I wouldn't've helped you, Tim."

Tim scoffed off the declaration and asked, "You mean your friend in Metropolis, the therapist? Or are you talking about how you wanted to put me in Arkham because you were sure I was crazy to think Bruce could still be alive."

Dick put himself in front of Tim so his focus could be entirely on him and tried to think of something convincing but all that came was a choked out, "Tim..."

Ignoring his older brother, Tim through his bag over his shoulder and said, "Look, I need to be somewhere."

Dick tried to argue, "Somewhere more important than your family?"

"Fam-?" The confusion on his face broke Dick's heart but he couldn't find anyway to defend himself.

Tim softened his scowl when he saw the distress on his face, but he still took a step out with, "Look, I need to go Dick. I just…I need to go. If you have any question you can text me."

He turned around and gave everyone in the room a half hearted wave. All Dick could do was watch him walk away a second time and hope Bruce would have some idea of how to win him back. The other heroes in the room were silent, not knowing what to think about the argument that had just taken place before them but knowing better than to get involved in something that had very little, if anything, to do with them.

Dick refused to look anyone in the eye as he took his seat and only perked up when the doctor announced that Bruce was ready to take in visitors. Walking into the room and seeing the small smile that crept up on Bruce's face when he saw him, Dick felt happy that Tim had ignored everything he'd said, but he couldn't help but think he should have been there with them.

* * *

Tim felt like a little child waiting in Bruce's office in Wayne Tower for what he expected to be a harsh scolding. Apparently, his conversation with Dick a few weeks ago had left much to be desired in terms of what he had been up to in the months that Bruce was away.

Too soon for him, Bruce walked into his office and immediately took his seat. He looked much better than the last time Tim had seen him, definitely covered in far less bandages, but Tim wasn't exactly sure what was expected from him.

Glancing down to the papers on the desk for a brief moment before looking up, Bruce smiled. "Tim, thanks for coming."

Quick to get to the point of the meeting, Tim assured, "It's no problem, Bruce."

"Was the trip over okay?"

"Yeah."

Bruce nonchalantly asked, "Did you take an airplane?"

"Airplane? No," Tim answered a little confused. There was no reason for Tim to take an airplane when he only lived a few minutes away.

"How about a helicopter?"

"I drove over, Bruce," Tim said a little too loudly. He wanted to get to the point of the session quickly so he could go home. He could tell this was going to be one of Bruce's lectures where he went through everything Tim had done wrong so the quicker they could get through it the better.

"That's because you live downtown right?" Bruce feigned a thinking look while knowing Tim had already caught on.

Not wanting to get into a large fight, Tim tried, "Bruce, is thi-"

Cutting him off and stepping out from his desk and using his height to intimidate the boy, Bruce explained, "I'm asking because downtown Gotham is only a few minutes away from here and we never see you anymore. I thought you'd either moved to a different apartment or they'd moved downtown Gotham farther away. Are either of those things true?"

Looking down at his feet, Tim muttered, "No, sir."

Crossing his arms and glaring down at him, Bruce continued, "And what Dick told me was true right, that you'd gotten help from Ra's?"

Once again, Tim gave him a quick, "Yes."

Leaning down, Bruce chided, "Timothy, when you put your head down your hair falls on your face and I can't see you and I can't hear you anymore."

Dramatically lifting his head to look him in the eye, Tim repeated, "Yes, Bruce. Dick told you the truth."

Bruce dropped his confused act and immediately yelled out, "What were you thinking? Well I'm sure you thought very hard about you choice before anything, that you got some advice from your brother and friends before turning to someone who tried to kill you."

Unable to look him in the eye, Tim turned his gaze back to the floor and choked out a weak, "Bruce-"

"What?"

"I was-"

"What?"

"I was-"

"Pick your head up, boy!"

Tim yelled out, "I was doing the best I could, Bruce. No one believed me but he did and it got you back didn't it?"

"There is much more to it than that. You knew it would make me and Dick feel guilty and that's cheap," Bruce stressed with a finger in his face. He wanted Tim to feel just as guilty as he should have been, Ra's was not the kind of person he should be associated with, if that meant having to scold him, so be it.

Tim promised him, "I didn't do it to make either of you feel guilty, Bruce," but he was scoffed off.

Bruce turned away from Tim, leaving him to stare at his back, while he said, "Well you didn't do it to make us happy either."

Now it was Tim's turn to rise out of his chair. "I don't know how to make you feel happy, Bruce. For that you'd have to talk to Dick." He didn't like having his objectives questioned, especially when everything he'd done in the past few months had been for the same person who was admonishing him as if he didn't care.

Not wanting to go anywhere near that topic, Bruce decided to end their discussion. All Tim could think was that he wasn't interested. "Okay. Let's drop it."

Moving behind his desk, he sat down and began reading over his papers. As Tim turned around to leave, Bruce remembered, "Dick's running a movie tonight and he would want you to stay over."

Tim tried one last time with, "I can stay over if you want me to."

Still not looking up, Bruce dismissed him immediately. "Yeah, okay."

No longer giving a damn, Tim left his office and didn't bother saying goodbye.

As soon as he was gone, Bruce's secretary came in and announced, "Mr. Wayne, your next appointment is waiting."

Letting go of a breath he didn't know he was keeping in, Bruce replied, "Okay send her in."

Just as she turned around to inform his appointment, he cut in, "Shelby?"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne?"

"Give me a moment, please." Shelby understood immediately and gave him a small smile. It wasn't often that she got to see her boss lose a little face or hear his voice crack, but it almost always had something to do with his family.

She said, "Of course, Mr. Wayne," before closing the door behind her and giving him some privacy.

As soon as he was alone, Bruce turned around and tried to take in everything Tim had said in their short meeting. Of course he couldn't bring himself to be upset with the boy. His 'death' had been a hard time for all of his boys and he knew that there was very little he would do bring them back to him. If was being honest with himself, he was almost pleased at the fact that Tim would go through such lengths, put himself through so much trouble, for him but then again he could never say Tim was a bad soldier.

* * *

Finding herself once again at the Manor, Leslie knocked on the door of Bruce's office before she heard him welcome her him.

Stepping out of his chair to shake her hand, Bruce greeted, "Good evening, Leslie."

Giving him a small smile, Leslie said, "Good evening, Bruce."

Stalling to build up the courage he needed, Bruce said, "I'm sorry to have called you in with such little notice."

"It's no problem," she replied curtly. Leslie didn't want to be rude, but it would be best if they could begin getting to work as soon as possible.

Pulling out a seat for her while he walked around the room, Bruce asked, "Is there anything I should be worried about, Leslie? Any reason I should still be in recovery?"

Just as she would any patient, Leslie said, "Nothing as far as I could tell. Although you did lose a lot of blood it doesn't look like there was any damage. Your broken bones are healing properly, there is no reason for any more sur-"

Giving her a fake smile, Bruce asked, "You've been looking after Tim?"

"What?"

Bruce repeated, "You've been looking after him while I was gone?"

Quick to defend herself from something she didn't know, Leslie said, "I've been making appointments with him regularly if that's what you're asking."

Finding himself acting like Luthor the few times he had been in a room with him, Bruce crossed his arms and said, "I'm asking if you told him that running around with people like Ra's would help him get me back. I'm asking if you're the reason he hasn't been talking to his family. I'm asking if you told him, 'Timmy, it's your doctor, the person who's supposed to look after you, and I think your brother is bad for your health and you should find someone else to run to.'"

Leslie didn't like being scolded like a child, but she put her anger aside as she promised, "No, Bruce. I never did that."

Sarcastically Bruce said, "Yeah."

Feeling his refusal to take the conversation seriously very characteristic of how he treated Tim, Leslie tried, "By the way, Bruce, it's not the doctor's job to keep kids healthy, it's the parent's."

Bruce didn't like what he was accused of and diverted the discussion with, "Why haven't I been able to get him to like me? I'm asking you."

"I don't really think that app-"

"I'm asking you."

Dropping all formality as she had with Tim, Leslie said, "I think you're wrong."

Bruce was adamant. "I'm not."

Shaking her head, Leslie assured him, "He worships you."

"He's mad at me," Bruce said feeling he knew better.

"Well you're mad at him."

Remembering just why he had brought her out here, Bruce said, "Yes I am. I come back after six months and where the hell is he?"

Coming to his defense, Leslie said, "He's been here, Bruce."

Now it was Bruce's turn to shake his head and say, "Not like Dick. Not like the league."

"You frighten him." It was the only way Leslie could think of explaining things to Bruce, the only he might understand how hard Tim tries to win over his approval.

"No I don't!" It was something Bruce never wanted to think about. He only ever scared people, mostly criminals, who wanted to hurt others, especially when it came to his kids.

Imagining herself as a proxy for whatever defense Tim needed, Leslie begged Bruce, "Look at yourself. You begin shouting as soon as you find yourself having to face a difficult truth."

"We've known each other for six years. He's seventeen. He can deal with a loud voice." There was no reason for Tim to be afraid of anything Bruce could do, it's not like he would ever hurt him.

"You have been the king of whatever room you walked into ever since you two met. All he has ever tried, all he has ever wanted, was to make you proud and that thought that you might not be satisfied with what he does scares the hell out of him."

Bruce dismissed her explanation. "It never seemed to frighten Dick."

It didn't take a doctor to break apart that argument but Leslie did it anyway. "Well kids are different, they're not the same. You'd be amazed, you'd be stunned at how quickly kids realize they are never going to be anywhere near their father's favorite."

Staring down at her in a way that was reminiscent of the Bat, Bruce said, "That's not true."

"Bruce-"

"That's not true!"

"Bruce Wayne-"

He was practically frantic as he argued, "No, no, no. I will bare with Darkseid and Ra's and Joker and whoever the hell else comes in my way, but I will not let anyone come in and say I love Tim less than Dick." Bruce turned his back to her, repulsed by the idea that she was putting in her head.

Finding his declaration to completely empty considering Tim's past, Leslie glared at his back and asked, "How can you say that?"

"What do you mean?"

"How can you say that knowing what we do about his past?"

Turning back to look at her, Bruce questioned, "Leslie, what are you talking about?"

She looked back at him, at the perplexed look on his face and complete worry in his pose, and she had to ask, "Bruce did you know?"

Confused, Bruce thought out loud, "About what? Ra's? I didn't now he wanted Tim to be his heir if that's what you're asking."

Leslie shook her head and pressed on, "No, about Jack. Did you know?"

Still confused, Bruce couldn't think of anything special about Jack. He had fathered Tim and died, but that's all he could think of. He found himself asking again, "Know what, Leslie?"

Leslie dropped her arms to her side. All these years she had thought Tim and Bruce had worked out an understanding, something to help with Jack, but knowing that the boy didn't turn to anyone was too much. She knew it meant that she was responsible for not ending it, for not begging Tim to find help, and falling into her chair all she could say was, "Oh my god. You…Bruce…Tim… Oh my god."

Understandably concerned, Bruce rushed over and asked, "What? Did something happen?"

Leslie shook him off with, "It's not my place to say."

Unlike all those years ago there was nothing she could do to help, nothing she could do to help that little bird. Whatever resolution he made with Bruce had to be on his terms and no one else's, that was the only support she could give him.

Helping her up, Bruce said, "Thanks for your help, Leslie. Thank you very much," before he walked her out to her car.

Watching her drive away, he couldn't help but think of how much he had failed his son and how much work there was still left to do.


	6. Christmas Miracle

The holidays were always an exciting time in Wayne Manor, but they didn't always include a pregnancy announcement (based on a headcanon sent to safety-dancer)

 **Christmas Miracle**

* * *

Tim laid in bed tired from the night before. It was very uncommon for him to feel tired when he woke up, he was usually well rested and ready to go about his daily activities, but now he didn't have any energy to roll out of bed. Not feeling up to it and knowing that the few days after Christmas were a free period before he had to be good boy after New Years, he curled up and thought about the previous day. Christmas was always a great day in the Manor, a lot of presents, Alfred's great cooking, and Bruce's friends coming by for a few hours before spending time with their own family. Uncle Hal and Barry always seemed to come by right after Christmas dinner was over, probably so they could take home the leftovers, but Uncle Clark and Aunt Diana came right before and dropped off some food. It would never be Christmas without Grandma Kent's apple pie or Aunt Diana's greek food, although he sometimes wasn't sure what he was eating.

Once he really felt like he was strong enough, and had the encouragement of Ace's footsteps outside of his door waiting for him to come downstairs, he jumped out and slowly got through his daily routine. Not wanting to come back upstairs to change out of his pj's, Timmy decided he could change his pants and no one would care about his shirt.

As soon as he dropped his pants, he noticed something looked different in his reflection. Turning and lifting up his shirt, he immediately recognized the problem. His stomach was a lot larger than it had been the last time he changed. Tim experimented for a moment, poking it a few times to see how it felt and pulled down his shirt when he used a little too much force and hurt himself.

Changing quickly and making his way downstairs, Tim tried to imagine what he had done. At the foot of the stairs he had to stop when he remembered a conversation he had overheard between Daddy and Dick before Alfred ushered him out of the room because he was too young.

He didn't remember much, it had been pretty boring and about something to do with biology, but he did remember something about babies. Daddy had said something about Dick being in a lot of trouble if he had a baby when he was too young, he'd said 'Dick, if you have a kid before you're old enough I might have to kill you,' and because Tim was younger than Dick had been when he had the conversation there was no way he wasn't in trouble. Every time Tim had seen someone who was pregnant, two tops, the women had very big stomachs but they were much larger than his now. Maybe it was because he was so small and when he got bigger his stomach would get even bigger.

Taking slow steps into his regular seat, Tim realized he had absolutely no idea what to do with babies. He was the youngest person he knew so he would need to find someone else to give him advice. Daddy would get angry, he wasn't supposed to be pregnant at 5. Dick wouldn't be very happy either, Tim might even get so big he'd be bigger than Dick and then there would be no one to carry him around. Alfred might be happy, he always said he was happy that Dick and Tim were here because he had been afraid Bruce would never have kids and another one would be even better. He might even be able to give the baby to Alfred for his birthday. He might call Aunt Diana, but he didn't have her number. Tim did have Kon's number and that meant he might be able to ask Uncle Clark for some advice. Waiting for his breakfast, Tim tried to plan through everything he was going to say to Uncle Clark so he wouldn't be mad at him. That was very important, his Uncle Clark knew Superman and if Superman was upset with him he might be the worst person in the world.

Looking up to see his little brother uncharacteristically quiet, Dick looked over to Bruce to see if knew what was wrong. Quietly, he nudged Bruce's arm and signaled him to lower his head to his level. "Dad, why's Tim so quiet?"

Taking a quick glance and seeing that the boy looked utterly uninterested in anything around him, Bruce asked, "Do you think he might be tired from the night before? He was up late."

Thinking about what he had said, Dick nodded and found the suggestion possible.

On the other side, Tim saw his dad and older brother whispering to each other, probably about him if Bruce's glance over meant anything, and realized they probably already knew. Of course they would know, his dad was the smartest person in the world, after Alfred, and Dick was probably in the top 10.

Trying to pull his shirt so the curve of his tummy would be a little harder to see, Tim tried to blend into his chair and only confused the two more. When Alfred laid down his breakfast before him, Tim dug in almost immediately. He was growing a person inside of him so it would only make sense he would need to eat for the both of them.

As soon as he was finished eating, Tim turned to Bruce and asked, "Daddy, I need to borrow your phone."

Not at all surprised, Bruce dug into his pocket and handed it to him before reminding him, "Don't download anything without asking me."

Tim only gave him an, "Okay," before he walked up to his room.

He brought in Ace with him for moral support and locked the door behind them so no one would interrupt and ruin everything.

He pulled off a few pillows off his bed so he and Ace could lay down on his floor and begin making his calls. Unlocking the phone wasn't difficult, the passcode was his and Dick's birth months, and he immediately found Clark's number.

Before he pressed the outline of the phone, he reminded Ace, "You can't tell anyone about this Ace. I could get into a lot of trouble. If you don't do anything, I'll let you play with my baby."

Uninterested in whatever he was saying, Ace laid his head on Tim's lap and rested while his smallest owner got onto whatever he was supposed to be doing.

Thinking this meant he agrees, Tim pressed the button on his phone and waiting until someone picked it up.

Clark's voice broke the dial-tone with, "Hey, Bruce, what's up?" His voice was a little groggy, Metropolis was an hour behind Gotham time and he had a break from work that meant he could sleep in.

"Uncle Clark?"

"Timmy is that you?" He was a little more confused to hear his surrogate nephew on the phone, but imparto calls weren't unheard of when it came to their family.

"Yeah. Uncle Clark, I need to talk to Connor." Tim was ready to get to the point, he had no way of knowing how much time he had left.

Clark tried to question, "Is that why you called?" while he went into his son's room to find him on the floor playing with his new toys. Connor didn't look like he was expecting anyone on the phone so it couldn't have been one of their little play dates.

"Yup. I need to talk to Connor and then I need to talk to you."

"Is everything okay, Tim."

"Yeah, but I need to talk to Connor," Tim insisted. Usually this uncle was the smart one.

"Okay, wait one second." Clark gave the phone to Connor, but didn't leave the room incase it was something important. Of course he could've heard their conversation across the apartment, but he was learning to be more fatherly and that meant having very loose rules when it came to privacy. At the very least that's what he'd learned from Bruce.

In his room, Tim leaned down and lifted one of Ace's ears to whisper in, "Remember Ace, don't tell anyone. This has to be between us."

Connor's excited voice rang through the phone with, "Hey, Tim, what's up?"

Getting right to the point, Tim explained, "Connor, this is very important. I'm going to be in a lot of trouble soon, I might even die, and if anything happens you can have all of my toys."

Worried, Connor dropped the toys he had been playing with and asked, "Timmy, what's going on?"

Tim insisted, "I can't say because I might get into trouble, but remember you can have everything. Now I need to talk to your dad."

Clark got on the phone confused and worried. He hadn't been above listening in on the conversation the two had just had and didn't miss the mention of Tim's fate.

As soon as his mouth was on the speaker, he asked, "Tim, are you alright?"

Before he could explain anything to him, Tim had to make clear, "Uncle Clark, if I tell you this you have to promise not to tell Superman."

Not wanting to promise something like that incase Superman was needed, he asked, "Why can't I tell him, Tim? If you're in trouble he could help."

Trying to distract himself with Ace's ears, Tim choked out against his tears, "It's just…I don't want him to be upset with me because if Superman doesn't like you you're a bad person."

Clark wasn't able to imagine anything that the small boy could ever do to warrant his alter ego's angry. "Tim, I'm not sure you could do anything to make Superman upset, but if it makes you feel better I won't tell him anything."

Through a little whimper, Tim said, "Thank you."

"Now what's the problem, Tim?"

Tim calmed himself down with a deep breath and said, "I need your advice because I think Daddy is going to kill me."

"What! What happened, Tim?" Clark's voice rang through with a bit of shock, confusion, and worry all wrapped up in one.

Tim continued to distract himself by playing with Ace's pays while he said, "A long long time ago I remember being in a room with Dick and Daddy and Daddy was telling him where babies come from. Alfred made me go with him to make breakfast because I was too little to hear what they were talking about, it wasn't that bad because it was a little boring, but I remember Daddy said that he would have to kill Dick if he had a baby when he was little."

"Tim, I'm sorry I don't understand."

"I'm having a baby, Uncle Clark."

"One more time, Tim. What?" Really, this was supposed to be his smart uncle.

Tim began again and explained, "I woke up this morning and my belly was very big and when you have a big belly it means that you're having a baby so now I'm having a baby because my tummy is getting bigger and Daddy is going to be mad at me and he might have to kill me. I don't know what to do, Uncle Clark!"

Clark hid the laugh in his voice while he tried to advice Tim, "The best thing to do would be to get your family in a room and explain the situation to them. I sure that when you explain everything, your dad will understand."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. And Tim, if you make a mistake, Superman isn't going to be mad at you."

That didn't matter and Tim still had to stress, "You still can't tell him anything, Uncle Clark, you promised!"

"I know. I won't say anything to him, but you remember what you're supposed to do when you're in trouble, right?"

Not liking that Uncle Clark was wasting his time when he didn't know how much he had left, Tim said, "Yes I remember. If I shout 'Superman' very loudly then he'll come and save me like he does Daddy."

"And if you dad can go to Superman, there's no reason you shouldn't be able to."

"Okay, thanks Uncle Clark."

"No problem at all, Tim. I always love any chance I get to talk to you."

Ending the call, Tim tried to think about what he should do. If Uncle Clark said it would be a good idea to confess everything to Bruce, it was probably a good idea. Superman wouldn't be best friends with someone who would lie to him.

Going next door into his brother's room, Tim barged in and declared, "Dick you need to come the library in five minutes."

Turning to his little brother confused, Dick said, "Is everything alright, Babybird? You were acting a little weird this morning."

Tim assured his older brother, "I'm alright, Dick. Just be in the library in five minutes, okay. I'll explain everything there."

Waving his little brother as he left the room, Dick couldn't help but that his little brother was the weirdest person in the room. It's a good thing he was so cute.

Tim repeated the process in the kitchen and Bruce's office before running out in front of them to set up.

He moved three chairs out into a line, making sure not to leave any scratches on the floor like Alfred said, and set out another chair across from them for himself

As the minutes drew on, he felt more frightened and began to tear up at the idea that everyone was going to be so upset with him. He still didn't know what he did wrong. Maybe he should have listened closely when Bruce was explaining everything to Dick, but Alfred never made any mistakes.

As the three tricked into the room, he lead them to their designated chairs and tried to avoid the worried look on their faces.

"Master Timothy, is everything alright?"

"No, Alfred, it's not. I made a very big mistake." Clearing up his throat and lifting his head so he could look everyone in the eye, Tim decided to blurt it all out and say, "I'm having a baby."

At the blank looks on all their faces, Tim went into the same explanation he had given Clark. "You know how people with big bellies are pregnant, I woke up today and by tummy is a lot bigger than it used to be." He lifted up his shirt for emphasis before going on to say, "After I realized I was pregnant, I remembered that Daddy said he would kill Dick if he had a baby when he was little so I was very scared and I called Connor to leave him all my toys and called Uncle Clark to see what I should do. Uncle Clark said he wouldn't tell Superman and that if I told you Daddy wouldn't kill me."

Finishing up his explanation, Tim looked down at the floor embarrassed. It was by no means a stretch to say this was the hardest thing he had ever had to do and their reactions were only confusing him more.

Alfred got up from his seat to ruffle his hair and say, "Master Tim, I think Master Bruce has a lot to explain to you but you are by no means in trouble."

He left the room with Dick to leave the two to their privacy and Bruce couldn't hold in his smile anymore. He rose from his seat to go over to Tim and place him on his lap before asking, "Is this why you were so afraid? Because you thought I thought I would hurt you?"

Leaning into his chest, Tim couldn't help but think that he was stupid if he thought his dad would really hurt him. His dad couldn't hurt anyone. He tried to play down his worry when he said, "A little. I also don't know what to do with a baby. Daddy, I'm supposed to be the smallest one and if I get big who's going to pick me up? I was thinking about giving it to Alfred as a present."

Bruce tried to hide his chuckle as he said, "As much as I think Alfred would appreciate it, you probably don't have to worry. Tim, only girls can get pregnant-"

"I'm a girl now? Daddy, I want to be a boy, I don't like long hair!"

"Tim, you are a boy so you can't get pregnant. You belly is a little bit bigger right now because you ate a lot of food for Christmas, nothing else."

"I'm not having a baby?"

"No, you are not having a baby."

"What do I do with my belly now? I don't want to be big, Daddy."

"Don't worry. If you eat like normal, it'll probably go away by itself but if you want you can exercise with me for a few days."

"Can I really?"

"Sure, I don't see why not. It's never too early to learn how to exercise."

Leaping out of his chair with his newfound energy, Tim said, "I want to learn how to do the flip Dick does. The very fast one."


	7. Visitation

There was only one place in the whole universe the boys wanted to visit

 **Visitation**

* * *

As soon as Bruce woke up that morning he knew the day wasn't going to be great. It was just one of those fatherly instincts he had grown to trust over the past few years and he used it as an excuse to stay in bed for a few minutes longer than he needed to.

Walking downstairs, he noticed immediately that something was wrong. There was no one else in sight, no one making a meal or eating it in the breakfast nook beside the kitchen. He looked around to see if there was a note for him and when he couldn't find any clues, he went upstairs to see if his boys were still asleep or even home.

Bruce found Dick curled around Tim in his bed while Alfred sat on a chair beside the bed with medicine in his hand. Concerned, he asked, "What's wrong?"

Dick looked just as worried and said, "Timmy isn't feeling very good. He was coughing a lot at night and now his throat hurts."

"Master Timothy is having some trouble taking his medicine," Alfred said with an uneasy frown on his face.

Bruce asked, "Why? Is he having some trouble keeping it down?" If he was vomiting up his medicine, then they would need to get him to a hospital as soon as possible so he could see Doctor Thompkins.

Seeing that Bruce was ready to pack Tim in the car, Dick assured him, "No, Tim just likes his cherry flavored medicine, but there's none left."

Bruce sighed at Tim's stubbornness before he crawled into his bed to sandwich him between himself and Dick. Looking at him closely, Bruce could see that it was only slight cold but he knew Tim had very little experience with being sick so it must have felt like the worst thing in the world. Plus there was the added problem of Tim being young enough for a slight cold to turn into something a little more serious if it went untreated.

Enveloping him in a hold so he would feel a little warm, Bruce asked, "Tim, what's the matter?"

"I don't like the medicine, Daddy. I want my nicer medicine," Tim tried to plead with his dad. He'd never tried the new medicine before, but there was no way it could be better than the one he usually had.

Bruce tried to persuade him, "I know you do, sport, but you need to take something to make you feel better."

At the unconvinced look on the four year old's face, Bruce knew he would need some more ammo to convince him to take the small dose.

Looking conflicted, Bruce informed him, "Tim, if you don't take your medicine, there's no way I can take you with me to the Watchtower today."

Tim forced himself to sit up straighter and look Bruce in the eye to make sure this wasn't another one of his tricks. "You promised, Daddy. You said I could go."

The father acknowledged, "I know I did, but I can't have you going and making the rest of the league sick, can I? So do you think you can take it now?"

Tim accepted his fate and nodded his head as fast as could before Bruce poured the medicine into the spoon and advised, "Drink it down as fast as possible. It's make the bad taste go away quicker."

Tim took his medicine down like a champ before Alfred handed him a bottle of water to chase down the bad taste. When everything was over, Tim reconciled, "That wasn't too bad."

From the other side, Dick praised, "Good job, Babybird."

Cleaning up around the trio, Alfred informed him, "Master Dick, you are in charge of making sure you find an adult as soon as Master Tim starts to feel unwell again."

The butler left the three in the room to go over their plan for the evening. It wasn't common for Bruce to allow other heroes around his boys, but months of begging from both sides had left him weak to their persuasion. Now he was left to make sure the two knew what to expect from the Watchtower, what would make them excited and what they should keep their distance from. The boys didn't really seem to care either way, they were getting a chance to see some of their favorite heroes in the world.

* * *

Although Bruce might have expected otherwise, the rest of their day on Earth was pretty low energy. Once he had to resign himself to his office he didn't see the boys for a couple of hours but he knew it must've had to with their excitement for the trip. Knowing what was coming, Bruce decided to enjoy the calm before the storm as much as he could.

In Tim's bedroom, the boys were getting ready for the meeting as soon as they were alone. Dick ran out into their playroom to find all the construction paper and arts material they could possibly need. Because he was still a little incapacitated, Tim sat on his bed while Dick pulled out a tray table and chair to sit next to him and keep him company.

Once they had everything they would need, the two began working on their gifts for each of the founding members of the League. Each of them was getting a personal drawing. Tim came up with the design while Dick did all of the physical work that left him covered in much more glitter than he knew existed.

It took them all of the day to finish their masterpieces and after each one was signed they carefully packed the drawings into Dick's backpack for safe keeping. He threw aside all of his schoolwork to make room for something that was much more important, their presents for all of Bruce's friends.

As soon as they were ready, Dick dressed into his favorite JL shirt while Tim had to wear a jacket to keep him warm and help with his shivers.

Bruce made sure he kept some of Tim's medicine in his belt incase he started feeling worse in the time they were in space as well as enough water to keep him hydrated for however long they were in space.

It was the first time the two would be going through a zeta tube, so Bruce made sure the two knew what to expect. Transportation came with a rush of energy and slight nausea the first time one went through, but the feeling went away as one grew more experienced. What he didn't expect was that the feeling would hit Tim the worst because of his already weakened immune system. As soon as he could regain his balance, Tim started coughing loudly and held onto Bruce as much as he could looking for some support.

The trio was a about an hour early to the meeting, Bruce had wanted to give them a tour of the space station before the actual event started, so he lead them into his personal room to rest until Tim started to feel better.

The room wasn't as comfortable as Bruce might have liked, he spent very little time in it beside taking quick naps between two operations or wanting some peace and quiet from the general chaos that came when the founding members of the league were all together in the same place.

Once he got them settled in the room, Tim took a quick nap on his bed and Dick immediately took up his role as the doting older brother until he woke up 15 minutes later feeling much better. Dick convinced him to take a small dose of medicine before Bruce lead the two around the station for their tour.

Dick held onto Tim's hand for the whole time they were getting a tour, making sure Bruce stopped every now and then so Tim wouldn't get too tired and getting him the water he needed. Once they got to the recreation center, Dick made sure to do his quadruple backflip just because he knew it made Tim feel better every time he got to see it and just like always there was a round of applause to greet him as soon as his feet touched the ground. They made their round without running into anyone, not very surprising with it being a light evening and the other heroes coming in later. There was some general staff that the Watchtower employed for maintenance and Dick never missed an opportunity to run up to him or her and ask about the greatest part of his or her job. He wanted to know everything, how many heroes came by, who was the best, who was his or her's favorite, and how he could get a job there.

When they were finished, Bruce brought the boys to the conference room in the center of the building and let the boys mess around with the interactive table while they waited for everyone to come in. The sight of Earth from the station was the one thing that the two appreciated the most and they immediately ran out to the glass window to try and make out everything they could.

That was the sight that Superman walked into and when he cleared his throat to get their attention Dick leaped onto his chest and demanded to be carried around as he was on the Kent farm. As soon Tim and Bruce were the only ones in the room, as they shared a glance they tried not to be surprised with how childish the two were.

They flew back in to see Tim sitting on Hal's lap while the Green Lantern made different animal apparitions out of the his ring and a very upset Batman sitting not too far away trying to distract himself. Bruce's frown went even deeper when Dick joined Tim in telling Hal what to make.

When he saw his dad look upset, Tim decided to keep him company while they waited for the rest of the team to show up. As soon as he sat down on Bruce's lap, Dick and Hal started to see how much prodding from them would it take for Tim to realize what they were doing. Very slowly, Hal creeped a finger up to him before flicking his feet and tickling his leg. It didn't take long for him to protect his feet by keeping them right next to Bruce so the next time they tried to mess with him, Bruce grabbed onto the green apparition and gave the two a very strong glare that scared them enough to stop.

Diana came in next and was immediately ambushed with the young acrobat's questions about her lasso and sword and life on Themyscira. He wanted to know how her equipment worked, where she learned to fight so well, and whether or not she thought she could beat his dad in a fight. They had a very long discussion that involved her giving him a demonstration of techniques that Bruce would have no knowledge of.

As always, Barry sped in last. He brought with him a bunch of snacks that he and Dick ate while they talked about everything he was learning in science. Barry told him stories of the things he'd seen in his work forgetting to filter out the parts that were inappropriate for 10 year old.

Even with Dick's many questions, the group ended up starting the meeting much faster than they usually did. It helped that everyone showed up relatively on time to get a chance to see the boys.

Bruce cleared his throat to get everyone's attention and say, "Is everyone ready to start?"

Peaking up from his lap, Tim asked, "Daddy, are we allowed to stay in here?" He didn't really know what the group was here for, but Tim would never want to get in the way of his dad doing his important business.

Dick got excited at the prospect that this meeting could have to do with sensitive information and he asked, "Is this something that's very secretive, like another alien invasion?"

The members found his excitement very cute, but Diana informed him, "It's nothing like that, Dick. Just some maintenance stuff to do with the Watchtower and updates on other heroes."

Batman had to stand up to being the presentation, but Tim opposed the change because it meant he would lose his resting place. Seeing the distress on his face, Hal offered, "Tim, if you still want to rest you can take a nap on my lap."

Tim shot him a glare that reminded everyone little of Bruce before he went over to Barry with his ridiculously blue eyes and asked, "Can I sleep on you?"

"Why him, Timmy? Why not me?" Hal questioned. He wasn't hurt, but he did want to know why his offer was rescinded.

Tim raised his arms so Barry could lift him on his lap and didn't even bother looking at Hal when he said, "You're mean and he has yellow hair."

Barry smiled down at the boy a little confused, but he rubbed his back and lulled him to sleep. He assumed Tim was sick enough that the logic made sense to him and Barry didn't see any problem in going along with it.

While Bruce began their meeting, Dick dug through his belt to find a camera. He made his rounds along the table taking pictures with the members until no one was able to focus on any part of the presentation. He got them to make funny faces for the camera and take selfies with him until no one cared anymore about the reason why they had planned the meeting in the first place.

Deciding that the boring part of the trip was over, Dick took off his backpack and told Barry, "You should wake up Timmy now. He's not going to want to miss this."

Barry shook the four year old until he was rolling around in his lap disoriented. Tim looked up to see Flash smiling down and he perked up wondering what was going on. Barry explained, "Your brother said you wouldn't want to miss whatever's happening next."

Tim turned around to look at his brother and he knew immediately what was going to happen. He told Dick, "Make sure everyone gets the right one, Dick."

Dick crawled onto the table and began unpacking his bag. He took out four assorted cards and began distributing them to everyone on the table.

Each card had a drawing of the hero defeating their enemies and Batman offering commentary about the greatest things about each hero. They could tell that the boys put a lot of effort into their presents even though some parts where a little hard to decipher.

Tim couldn't read anything on the card, he couldn't read much of anything, but as soon as Barry got his card he turned it around to show him, "Look, Uncle Barry, that's my name. The one on top. I wrote it myself."

The hero praised his skill with the crayon and said, "Maybe next time you can write my name too."

Tim promised to learn as soon as he could, but Bruce decided it was time to say, "It's almost your bedtime boys. We should probably get going."

Dick wanted to question his dad, but he had no idea how to tell what time it was in space. Before they left he asked for one last thing. "Dad, can we get one last picture of the league?"

Bruce accepted knowing there was no way this could take too long but he hadn't expected to be the one to be taking the picture. Dick took to organizing the others, putting Barry and Tim in the center before seating himself on Diana's lap. Once he was sure everyone's smile was large enough, Dick told Bruce, "Okay, take it now and make sure everyone looks pretty."

Bruce wanted to say something about how most of the people in the picture weren't and would never be 'pretty,' but he chose to snap the picture and gather the boys up as soon as possible.


	8. Change

Sometimes change comes a little too fast, but Bruce is willing to slow things down if it helps Tim catch up

 **Change**

* * *

Tim had always known that at some point Dick wouldn't have as much time for him, but he always thought it would be when they were like Bruce. He'd imagined them being old men who didn't even live in the same house anymore, they'd be grumpy with their own jobs and their own lives, but he was too young for Dick to forget about him now.

He wasn't prepared for his brother to be too busy for him when they lived five seconds away from each other, when there was only a wall separating them. If Dick couldn't make time for him now, then what would happen when they were Bruce's age, or worse Alfred's? Would they just not talk to each other anymore?

The problem had mostly started with Dick spending his nights as Robin. Having to train with Bruce most afternoons, some of his nights flying around Gotham, and still having to stay on top of all his schoolwork, Dick just didn't have time to pay attention to Tim.

Bruce presented him with a similar problem. It seemed that a series of unfortunate events had taken place and he found himself swamped with training Dick, working on a new case with Penguin, and trying to finalize a merger with a small but prominent pharmaceutical company in Gotham. Now he was either spending his time in the cave working with Dick or in his office making sure all of his employees were working their hardest on their projects. Now he wasn't home for over a few hours a day and Tim felt like he was losing his father all over again.

They even lost their nights together, something they'd held onto on principle even when they had their separate rooms. It had become an unspoken of tradition in their family for them to load into on of their bedrooms and watch an old movie but no one had the time and it sort of fell through the cracks, something Timmy was afraid of happening to himself too.

The two heroes stayed out so far into the morning that Tim couldn't stay up to wait for them no matter how hard he might've tried. He tried to station himself in Bruce's chair the cave to catch his father and brother as they came in, but he always woke up to find himself in his bed all alone and couldn't help but feel he was one step closer to losing his family.

That didn't mean Tim gave up trying. He always made his way to the cave when he knew the two were on patrol and sometimes he would even get the chance to give them some advice from the computer. Tim liked to think that in a few years the problem would go away when he'd be able to join the two on their routes around the city, but he didn't think he could wait that long to have his brother again.

Instead, he built up his resistance to sleep slowly and slowly until at one point he could remember Bruce telling Dick to take a shower before reaching down to carry Tim to his room. Feeling much safer and happier in his arms than he had when he was awake and somewhere in the tired crevices of his mind, Tim decided he'd make up for his loneliness with Bruce.

* * *

The following morning, Tim found himself a little late for breakfast and when he finally made his way downstairs he was just able to catch Dick leaving for school and Bruce leaving for work. He decided to skip breakfast and talk to them for however long he could before they left, but Dick was in a rush to gather some of his books he'd left in his room so all Dick had time for was a quick wave goodbye before he ran out to the garage where Bruce was waiting in the car.

Tim noticed that Bruce had left his briefcase beside the table and in a moment of craze he sneaked took out what he assumed to be some important paperwork. After hiding it in one of the cabinets, he called Bruce's cellphone and informed him, "Daddy, you've left your bag in the kitchen."

Bruce said some words he made Tim promise not to repeat and sped home to gather the bag and leave with a pat to Tim's head all in a few minutes.

Tim sat down a little deflated at being alone for another morning but he waited to see if his plan would work. He poured out some cereal and ate it slowly it at the breakfast table while he tried to distract himself with the tv. Just as he had assumed, not even an hour later the phone rang with the number he knew belonged to Bruce's office and he could praise himself for being so resourceful.

He picked it up and pretended to be confused when he asked, "Hello?"

Bruce said exasperated, "Timmy, I need you to do me a favor. It's very important."

Already knowing what Bruce needed, Tim asked, "What is it, Daddy?"

Bruce explained, "Go into my office and see if I've left some paperwork on my desk."

Tim pretended to make his way to Bruce's office and look for the paperwork but instead he leaned into the cabinet and pulled out the ones he had hide away earlier. Reading off the title page he asked, "Is it the one that says 'Reseawch into the Susten…Sustin…Sus-tain-ab-il-i-ty of Kepto…Krepto. Daddy, I can't read it anymore. Is that the one?"

With a sigh of relief, Bruce said, "Yes, thank you, Tim. I'll be home as fast as I can to pick them up. Thank you very much."

Letting himself feel proud of himself if only for making up such a great plan on the spot, Tim blushed and said, "You're welcome, Daddy."

Learning that Bruce would be making his way home to retrieve the papers, Tim ran out to his room as fast as he could and quickly changed into the shirt Alfred said he looked very smart in. Once he thought he looked very handsome in the mirror, he took the papers and sat in the stairs waiting for the door to open.

In a few minutes, Bruce came in and said, "Thank you very much, Tim. i don't know what I'd do without you."

Tim took it as the perfect opportunity to ask, "Daddy, can I come with you to work today? I already changed and everything."

Bruce didn't see any problem in saying, "Sure kiddo, I don't see why not."

Excited, Tim leapt out of his seat and lead the way to the garage to say, "If you're taking me to work then you need to drive your best car."

Laughing, Bruce found the keys to Tim's favorite car and buckled him into the car seat before driving off to Wayne Tower. He let himself take the longer route if not only to show Tim some of his favorite sights in Gotham before he had go to Bruce's stuffy office.

As soon as they stepped out, Tim began to feel anxious about being in such and important building and needed Bruce to lift him up so he wouldn't accidentally get lost. Bruce was surprised by the show knowing that Tim was usually more outgoing in large crowds but he gave in anyway. People were interested in the boy Bruce was carrying, they were interested in learning anything they could about his personal life, but he pushed them aside to get to the privacy of his office.

He asked his secretary to find a pull out a table and smaller swivel car for Tim and set him up next to his own desk. The sight was almost ridiculous. Bruce had designed his office to be as intimidating as possible but the new additions made it look absurd but Bruce couldn't find it in himself to care.

Tim immediately got to work drawing pictures and handing them out to everyone who came in to talk to Bruce. It was mostly a way for him to ask Bruce about his opinion of the work and get the employees out as soon as possible, but most only found it cute. Every now and then, he'd be talking to his dad about whatever had come to mind and he'd tell him or her to come back later because he was busy with something much more important, his son.

At first Bruce let it go on, he found Tim's just as charming as the others, but once he realized Tim didn't want anything, not even his work, to divert his attention away from him he knew there was more the issue.

Bruce made room on his desk by moving aside the paper and equipment and lifted Tim up so he'd be front and center. Tim like the change, he was the only thing Bruce could look at, but then he realized Bruce thought something was wrong and he knew his moment was over.

Tilting his head so he could look him in the eye and moving out his bangs from his forehead, Bruce asked, "Tim, is something wrong? You've been acting a little strange today."

Tim tried to not look away from him, but Bruce wouldn't let him. Instead he muttered, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Knowing almost immediately that his son was lying, Bruce said, "I think you do."

Tim leapt off of the desk to wrap his arms around Bruce's throat. He spoke into the fold of his neck, "I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to. I'm really sorry."

Unsure of what he was talking about, Bruce asked, "Did you do something bad?"

"Yes. I saw that you left your bag behind so I took out the papers so you'd have to come back," Tim informed. He still refused to look him in the eye, he didn't want to see just how disappointed his father was in his actions.

Confused, Bruce asked, "I'm not mad at you, Timmy, but why did you do that?"

He moved him off of his chest to get a better look at the boy and he could see the despair on Tim's face when he said, "I just…I've just felt a little lonely lately."

"Is there any particular reason?"

Tim tried to hold back, but he rambled on, "I know I'm not supposed to feel bad about this, but you're Batman and Dick's Robin now so I can't sleep with you and that's not bad because I always knew that at one point he was going to be too big to need to sleep with someone but it shouldn't be now, Daddy. He should wait until he's old like you or Alfred, but he doesn't need me right now so what's going to happen later? I mean, you are always working on something and he used kiss to me goodbye before he goes to school, but today he just gave me a wave and he wasn't even paying attention," Letting his tears fall out, Tim said, "I miss you two, Daddy."

Wiping the tears off of his cheek, Bruce asked, "Is that why you hid my papers, so you'd get to spend some more time with me?"

Ashamed, Tim started to cry more and admit, "Yes, Daddy. I'm sowy."

Bruce wrapped him up in his arms and assured him, "There's no reason to feel so bad, but next time please just tell me. I can't fix it if you don't tell me. And you know what?"

Confused and a little scared, Tim asked, "What?"

"I think that if you tell Dick how you feel, he'll try a little more too. He loves you Tim, more than anyone in the world, and it's not on purpose that he sometimes forgets to pay attention. He just has a lot to do all at the same time, but I know for a fact if you asked him, he'd drop it all to spend some more time with you."

Not wanting to let his hopes get too high, Tim make sure, "You pwomise?"

"Of course I promise."

Wiping out the remaining tears on his cheek, Tim drank some of Bruce's water before he settled himself on his lap. He was satisfied enough just watching Bruce finish working. Bruce decided that it wasn't worth it and said, "How about you and I take the day off from work and we can find something else to do."

"Are you sure? Don't you have to do some wowk to do?" Tim knew he had already done a lot today and he didn't want to be even more of a nuisance.

Giving him a little peck on the top of his head before packing up everything on the desk, Bruce assured him, "There's nothing more important than my family, Tim, and that means I have all the time in the world for you. That is never going to change."


	9. Vows

To Tim marriage was simple: you find the person you love the most and spend the rest of your lives together

 **Vows**

* * *

Setting up the table for dinner, Tim was surprised to see another plate setting. It wasn't always that someone came over for a meal, his daddy wasn't really the best host in the world, so Tim always welcomed the opportunity to have a guest over. Looking over to Alfred as he was finishing working on dinner, Tim asked, "Is someone coming over for dinner?"

Alfred informed him, "Miss Diana is going to join us tonight."

Looking down at his sweatpants and t shirt and knowing his aunt always wore much fancier clothes every time she came over, Tim asked, "Do I need to change into something better?"

Alfred gave him a look and decided, "I don't think so, Master Tim."

Trusting his opinion, Tim finished putting out all the glasses and plates before he pulled out a chair to ask, "Is today something special? Aunt Diana doesn't come over a lot."

Setting out a treat for Tim for helping him out, the butler considered her tone over the phone when she called and said, "I think so, sir, but it's probably a surprise. Maybe you should go and get your brother and father so we don't make Miss Diana wait."

Tim finished up his treat and ran up to Dick's room and Bruce's office to warn them that they were having company over and they should be down in a few minutes.

In the end he did decide to change into something a little more formal and it was a good idea because Diana was very well dressed and here to give them a pretty important announcement. She looked excited as soon as she stepped in and wanted to get through the meal as soon as possible so they could talk much more candidly afterwards. Alfred was a little buffed that they were speeding through the meal, but he could tell it was for a good cause and immediately set out dessert.

As they sat around the dinner table, she played with her slice of cake for a moment before announcing, "Steve and I are getting married. He asked me to marry him a few days ago and I said yes."

The others looked incredibly excited, they all got up and hugged her and told her congratulations but Tim stayed in his seat looking confused at everything. He was happy for his aunt, she looked some of the happiest she's ever had, but he didn't really know why she was excited or why the ring on her was so important.

He waited until everyone was sitting down to ask, "What does that mean?"

Looking down at her ring, she smiled at him and explained, "It means Steve and I are going to be together forever. That we love each other and will always."

"Like a mom and dad?"

Diana thought hard for a moment before explaining, "A little. First it's boyfriend and girlfriend, then it turn into husband and wife when two people get married. If they decide to have kids then it turns into mom and dad, but you don't stop being husband and wife."

"Can two boys and girls get married?"

Unclear about what he was asking, Bruce explained, "Well, four people can't get married, but a boy can marry a boy and a girl can marry a girl."

Understanding what he was saying, Tim asked Diana, "And...you're like best friends?"

"Yes, best friends who are going to be together forever."

Finishing his cake, Tim asked, "Does everyone get married?" This seemed like something that was very important, but he couldn't understand why his dad was still alone.

"Most people do."

"Can you marry anyone? Anyone you want?"

Wanting to be sure there was no confusion, Diana stressed, "Well, if two people want to get married then they can."

Tim seemed satisfied with the answers and decided it was time for him to go to bed. He put his plates in the sink and drank a glass of water, but before he went upstairs to sleep he knew he had to give Diana a good luck kiss and tell her he hoped she had the best marriage in the world. Dick followed him up to bed, but Bruce and Diana stayed behind to have one of their grown up discussions that was too boring for them.

In his room, Tim decided he wasn't actually satisfied in everyone's explanations. He crawled out of his bed to go visit Dick in his room and crawl up with him. He shook him a little until he put his phone down to give him all his attention and then he asked, "Dick, am I going to get married some day?"

Surprised with the question, Dick smiled over and said, "I hope so, Timmy. I hope you find someone you want to be with forever."

Tim scampered back to his room to plan everything out. He already had his brother's blessing so there shouldn't be much more he was to work through. If he was going to marry someone then it should be someone he loved the most but then he was forced to make a very difficult decision. How was he going to chose between his dad and brother?

Lying in bed he weighed the pros and cons of both options. He was sure he'd be happy with both of them forever, but he had a feeling it wasn't going to be that easy. Bruce was a lot older than him, but he also had a job so that was good. Dick was closer to his age, but sometimes he could be annoying when he had to go to school. In the end Tim decided it should come down to the fact that Bruce was still unmarried when he was so old so maybe Tim could step in before he died alone. If Aunt Diana was so happy to be married, then he could make his dad just as happy if he married him.

* * *

In the morning when Dick was away at school and Alfred was out running some errands, Tim changed into his smartest outfit and knock on Bruce's office door. He had already planned out the conversation in his head last night and he knew exactly what he wanted to say so there was no way Bruce could tell him no.

Hearing Bruce's voice call out, "Come in," Tim stepped into his office and stood in front of his desk.

Bruce looked up a little confused at seeing him wearing one of the suits he hated and he asked, "What is it, Timmy?"

Tim walked up to him and lifted his arms up until Bruce would take him into his lap. As soon as he was sitting down,he moved all of the papers off of his desk and made it his seat so he could have a more comfortable conversation with his dad. Making sure Bruce was looking him in the eye, Tim placed each of his hands on his cheek and stressed, "You need to pay attention, Daddy, this is very important."

Thinking he looked very cute when he tried to be so serious, Bruce smiled at him and said, "You have my full attention, Tim. I'll listen to anything you say."

Taking a deep breath, Tim gave Bruce his favorite smile and asked, "Daddy, will you marry me?"

Shocked, Bruce creased his eyebrows and was barely able to choke out, "What?"

Tim tried to get past his insecurity in Bruce's lack of answer and repeated, "Do you want to marry me? Like Uncle Steve and Aunt Diana?"

Tim started to lose his faith when Bruce's smile went away but it was his words that broke his heart. "Oh, Timmy. I'm sorry kiddo, but that's not how things work."

Deflated, Tim asked, "Why? Why can't I marry you?"

Bruce tried to explain, "You can't marry your father, Tim. I'm sorry." He didn't want Tim to think that he didn't love him enough to marry him, but there was much more to the situation than the five year old could understand.

To Tim there wasn't anything more to the situation then, "But I love you and you love me."

Bruce insisted, "I know and that's not what this is about. There are different kinds of loves, Tim. You know how you and I love each other, it's very different from how Diana and Steve love each other."

"Why?" To Tim it was all the same. Love was love.

He maintained, "Well, they were boyfriend and girlfriend first-"

"But you and I can be boyfriend and boyfriend."

He took Tim's small hands into his own and reiterated, "I don't want to be your boyfriend, Tim. I want to be your daddy. Don't you like me being your daddy?"

Looking down at their hands Tim acknowledged, "You're the best daddy in the world."

Resting his head under his chin, Bruce explained, "And you know how you love your friends, you love Conner and Cassie and Bart and all of them, it's very different with how you love me and that's okay. Some day you're going to meet someone and you are going to know it's a completely different kind of love and that's okay." He held him close and let Tim's tears soak his shirt until he felt like he had let everything out. Bruce could tell his was very important to him and even though he didn't see Tim's logic he could tell it was all because he loved him.

Finished crying and still upset at his rejection, Tim wiped his tears away said, "Okay. We won't get married."

Lifting him up, Bruce knew he wanted to cheer him up as fast as he could. He carried him away from his desk to ask, "How about you and I go and get some ice cream?"

Tim pressed his face into Bruce's neck and said, "Okay."

Whispering into his ear, Bruce added, "We can go and get the one shop that we're not allowed to tell Alfred about." He wanted to get that pain out of his voice as soon as possible and he knew food was one of the best ways to cheer his son up.

Not moving his face or changing his tone, Tim gave him a quick, "Okay."

Repositioning Tim so he could look him in the eye, Bruce said, "But how about you change into something more comfortable. We'll probably get caught if some ice cream falls onto it."

Tim still refused to look him in the eye when he said, "Okay."

As soon as he was dropped onto the floor of his room Tim changed out of his outfit and silently followed Bruce out to his car. He still refused to say anything else and Bruce was starting to feel like he still needed to give his boy more. Pushing his key into the lock, he looked through the mirror and promised, "You know if you think of something else you want to do, then you can ask me."

He looked up to see Tim playing with the belt of his car seat when he repeated, "Okay."

Keeping the car in park, he unfastened his seat belt to turn around properly and ask, "What's wrong baby?"

Tim couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye when he said, "It's just...you're so old Daddy and you're not married and I thought I could help."

Retaking Tim's hands into his own, Bruce started playing with his fingers and said, "Timmy I'm not worried about marrying someone. It's not the most important thing in the world. You know what is?"

A little hopeful, Tim looked at his dad to ask, "What is it?"

"You are. People get married because they know it's going to make them happy and that's great, but I'm my happiest right now and I'm not going to change anything."

Tim gave him a small smile before he unbuckled himself to leave a kiss on his dad's cheek. In the end all that he cared about was that his dad knew he loved him.


	10. Mainframe

Tim and Connor know Alfred's special, they just need to find out how much

 **Mainframe**

* * *

Clark held an anxious Conner as he tried to break away from his hold. The seven year old didn't feel up to waiting for his father to pack him into the car for their trip, he knew he could get to Wayne Manor much faster if he was allowed to fly and he didn't understand why Clark would feel like keeping him away from his best friend. They were kryptonian, there was no reason they shouldn't use it to their advantage.

Failing to convince him that Bruce had very strict rules about not letting metas use their powers in Gotham, Clark's pleas fell on deaf ears and Conner flew around the room trying to get as far away from him as fast as he could. The new father knew he could have said something about how Conner didn't have the stamina to last the entire trip to Gotham, but he knew better than to undermine the boy's soft pride.

Knowing there was one thing that was sure to work, Clark offered, "Conner, if you listen to me, then I'll let you stay out for a little longer."

Conner immediately stopped midair to weigh his options. Driving would mean they'd have to wait longer until they saw Tim, but if he got to see him for even longer it might be worth it. Dropping to the ground, he finally gave in, but not before giving his dad a warning glare and promising, "If you're lying, I'll tell Uncle Bruce and he'll be mad at you."

With Conner settled into his car, Clark sighed as he began the too long trip to Gotham. Conner was beside himself with excitement and it only grew the closer they got to the Manor. As soon as he caught sight of the sign welcoming them into Gotham he left out an excited gasp and began shifting around in his seat. Since he'd only been a father for a few months, Clark spent most of the time learning how to adjust to the new lifestyle but he knew he enjoying seeing his boy so excited. The thing Clark hated was having to ruin the moment and remind the boy that, "Conner, you have to remember that Tim's family is human so you have to be gentle with them. You can't use your super strength because they might get hurt. I know it's hard, but you have to be careful."

Conner deflated at the reminder and decided the sight outside was more interesting than their conversation. Knowing his father was waiting for a response, Conner muttered, "It's okay, Daddy. I just like seeing them. I'll make sure nothing bad happens."

Turing the direction of the conversation, Clark decided to distract the seven year old and asked, "Do you know what you want to do today? Anything special?"

The smile returned to Conner's face as he explained, "Tim promised that we'd play whatever games I wanted and after we're going to eat some of Alfred's cooking."

Hearing the boy's heart beat rise slightly at the mention of the boy, Clark commented, "You two have gotten along pretty well." He would need to remember to thank Tim for helping Conner so much. The transition from the Cadmus lab to a Metropolis apartment was rough and Clark knew he wasn't as welcoming as he could have been in the first few weeks, but he was glad Conner had something to anchor him.

Looking into the rearview mirror, Clark even saw the boy's smile get just a little brighter as he said, "Yeah...he's my best friend!"

* * *

Conner had to have his hand held as they walked up the steps to the giant house. It was the only thing that kept him from flying up in the air once he heard Tim sitting on the stairs waiting for them. He had to try his hardest to hold in his instinct to run up and envelope his friend in a hug so Clark took the initiative and held onto his hand to keep him grounded.

As soon as the front door open and they saw each other, Tim leaped off of the steps and into Conner's arms. Forgetting to say hello to his uncle or even acknowledge his presence, Tim took hold of Conner's sleeve and pulled him to his room so they can get to the fun part of their play date.

Settling into his bedroom, Tim offered Conner his massive selection of toys. It didn't take long for the toys to be broken and in pieces as Conner failed to control his strength and limit himself to what he thought normal humans could do.

Tim wasn't too worried about the loss, his dad would buy them all again if he asked for it, but watching the disappointment on his friend's face Tim knew that he felt bad about it. He threw the broken pieces in the trash before trying to comfort Conner. He put a hand on his shoulder and offered, "Maybe we can do something without any toys, something more fun."

"Can we play a game?"

"Sure. What do you want to do?"

Thinking deeply about something the both of them would find interesting, Conner said, "You know how you and your brother do a lot of gymnastics? Maybe we can go there and try out different things?"

Jumping off of the bed and dragging Conner in the direction of the workout room and explained, "Good idea, but Dick isn't home to show us anything so we'll have to come up with our own routine."

Sitting in the middle of the room with a lot of complicated equipment around them, the two boys planned out a routine they felt they could do. Tim decided he could show show Conner some of the things he had learned through his family. His favorite move was to jump in the air and show how high he could go in a flip. Landing on his feet to excited clapping, Tim turned back to look at Conner and said, "Try to do that, but don't use your powers. That's cheating."

Taking in a deep sigh to prepare himself, Conner tried to repeat the display but as soon as his feet were in the air he lost his faith and balance and used his powers to break the fall. He steadied himself in the air and was prepared to see Tim look disappointed, but he was pleasantly surprised.

Unable to control his excitement, Tim squeal and praised, "Wow, that's so cool!"

Conner rocked on his feet as if he was on the floor and blushed under Tim's praise. He mumbled, "I've been practicing for a while," while he tried to avoid looking Tim in the eye.

"Do you wanna play hide and seek? I play it with Dick all the time, but with this it will be even better."

Thinking about it for a moment, Conner covered his eyes with his hands and began counting. As soon as he heard the numbers Tim ran out of the room and thought of the best place to hide. He absentmindedly made his way down to the kitchen and tried to find refuge there.

He noticed that Alfred was there making snacks for the both of them and Tim realized he had the perfect opportunity. Sneaking up behind him, Tim said, "Alfred, I need you to step to the right real quick," knowing he was too busy to question it.

Just as he expected, Alfred took a step to the side without question and Tim crawled into the cabinet the butler had been blocking. Making sure he was comfortable, Tim found the best position and began to wait while he silently praised Alfred for even cleaning down here.

Soon he heard Conner sweep into the room, he could feel a slight gust even from where he was sitting, but he hoped Alfred wouldn't give him away.

Conner quickly glanced around the room before he asked, "Alfred, have you seen Tim? We're playing hide and seek."

Deciding to use the opportunity to reach a compromise, Alfred handed the boy a slice of the sandwich he was making to sweeten the boy op before he offered, "I can make a deal with you, Master Conner. If you stop using your powers, I will tell you where Master Tim is hiding."

Tim immediately heard Conner's feet touch the ground and he knew he had been betrayed. He accepted his fate and quietly waited for the door to open and Alfred to carry him out to the waiting kryptonian.

Helping Tim to his feet, Alfred remarked, "I am glad you two are enjoying yourselves, but it would be best if you could refrain from flying around indoors. It can be quite dangerous and I would hate for either of you to get hurt."

Conner nodded along, but he quickley grabbed Tim's hand and lead him back to his room before either of them could give Alfred an answer. As soon as the door closed behind them, he turned to face the surprised boy and said, "I think Alfred might be a robot."

Tim couldn't do anything other than slant his head and squint his eyes. Looking at his confusion, Conner explained, "I don't know why, but he just seems...different from most people. Dad explained to me that I'm stronger than humans and I need to be careful and that I can do anything, but I don't know...I just do what Alfred wants me to."

Still confused, Tim asked for clarification. "Why would that make him a robot?"

Thinking about the little he knew about robots, Conner asked, "How do you know if someone is a robot? Can you check?"

"Well...they don't know their emotions a lot." The only experience Tim had with robots came from the movies that Dick made him watch. Soon he came to the realization, "Alfred does hide how he's feeling a lot. I just thought that he was silent like Bruce. Wait...He always says that he loves us so how could he be a robot?"

Already having thought of that, Conner argued, "Well...Ace loves you too and he's not human. Me and Dad love you and we're not human. We're going to need something more to rule out him being a robot."

Tim knew Conner had a point and he said, "You're right. So what do we do now?"

Rubbing his chin, Conner thought about if there was anything else that could help them. He asked, "Does he get sick a lot? Robots can't get sick because they aren't people."

Tim leaped off the bed and recalled, "I have never even seen Alfred cough or sneeze. He's always the one that takes care of us when we get sick and he says to make sure me and Dick take vitamins so we can be healthy. Do you think that means he can't get sick?"

"Do you think we should go talk to your dad?" Conner knew they had hit a dead end with everything they wanted to do and they would need help.

Knowing Bruce had some previous experience with robots, Tim realized, "He might know something. He could give us some advice."

Taking his hand, Tim lead Conner to the office where he knew Bruce was working.

The two didn't bother knocking on the door and he walked up before Bruce's desk and waited until he looked up at them. Bruce hadn't been expecting the interruption, but he knew the best option always was to ask, "Is there anything I could help you with?"

Tim got right to the point and asked, "Do you know if Alfred is a robot?"

Mirroring the reaction Tim had to the question a few minutes ago, Bruce dropped the papers he had been working on and blurted out, "What?"

Stepping in because he had been the one to come up with the idea, Conner explained, "Uncle Bruce, we think Alfred might be a robot. He doesn't ever get sick and he never shows any emotions."

After spending a few years raising the boys, Bruce knew it was best to let them work out all the reasons they were wrong themselves. This wasn't even the weirdest thing he'd heard one of his sons ask so Bruce knew to play along. He offered, "I...I think if you want to be sure whether or not Alfred is a robot you will have to do a test. Do you know how to tell the difference between a robot and a person?"

"Hmm. Can robot's laugh?"

With Red Tornado coming to mind, Bruce answered, "No, I don't think robots can laugh."

Finally feeling like they were getting somewhere, Conner flew up a few inches with excitement and said, "That can be our test."

Surprising not bothered by the show of the boy's powers, Bruce motioned for the boys to come to his side and explained, "We are going to have to find some jokes to see if anything will make Alfred laugh."

* * *

Tim and Conner took their seats at the table as Alfred seat out their meals. They had planned out their attack with Bruce and felt that they were ready to make sure if the butler was a robot or not. It had only taken half an hour of looking up jokes on the internet and letting Bruce filter out everything he felt they were too young for and now they knew it was time.

Using his fork to move around some of the corn on his plate, Tim began with, "Do you want to hear a joke, Alfred?"

Not expecting the question, but knowing better than to be surprised by anything the young boy said, Alfred answered, "Do you have something prepared, Master Tim?"

"Yeah. It's a knock knock joke. Conner?"

Conner clear his throat and started just as they had prepared. "Knock knock."

Continuing to work on the rest of the meal, Alfred distractedly asked, "Who's there?"

"Owl."

"Owl who?"

Tim couldn't hide his chuckle no matter how much he tried and finished, "That's right. Owl's hoot."

Alfred gave them a small smile before turning back to his work and left the boys to judge the meaning of his reaction.

They whispered among themselves, "Does a smile mean he's not a robot?"

"It's not a laugh though," Conner said dismissively. If they were going to do this, then they had to make sure it went down perfectly.

Tim thought for a moment before he asked, "Can we just ask him? Robots can't lie, can they?"

Deciding that it was the best option they had left, Conner asked, "Alfred, are you a robot?"

Turning around to look at the boys with crossed eyebrows, the old man asked, "Why do you ask, Master Conner?"

Conner explained, "It's just...sometimes you act like a robot." Brevity was the best way to make an argument.

Going into more detail, Tim said, "Sometimes you don't show a lot of emotion and you don't laugh and you can make Conner do anything and you don't get sick."

Alfred thought about that for a moment before he explained, "I'm not a robot, Master Tim, I'm just from England."


	11. Anything

Tim would do anything Dick needs him to, even if he doesn't always understand it

 **Anything**

* * *

The routine was as perfect as ever. Dick leapt high into the air before gracefully somersaulting to the edge of the beam and landing with perfect balance. He proudly stepped down to the mat and got ready to go through something even tougher, better, grander.

Bruce watched from the side and took mental notes of how easily Dick was progressing through a routine he knew most professional acrobats couldn't master.

Once he was on his two feet again and giving him a bow, Bruce offered, "We should head up to the Manor soon. It's almost time for dinner and you know how Alfred can get."

Uncharacteristically stiffening up his back as he stepped off of the balance beam, Dick said, "Umm, I think I want to work some more. On the third turn I...it could have been better."

Looking at his son a lot more critically than he ever had, Bruce could immediately see that something was different. The boy had always been small, that's the price that came with being a lifelong acrobat, but this was something else. The Robin tunic that had been custom designed for the fourteen year old hung off his chest when a few months ago they had talked about adjusting it to make room for his growing body.

He tried stealing glances as he watched him change into his lounge cloths and Bruce knew it wasn't a fluke. His ribs stuck out and he could see that Dick's collarbones and jawline had become defined. Bruce could tell the boy had been losing weight fast and he could feel his chest tighten at the possibility that he had missed something important.

Walking up to the boy he tried to take in everything that had changed from his appearance. He found some more rings under his eyes and Bruce could tell the beginning signs of his hair thinning. Dick looked paler than before, losing his color in his cheeks and his eyes.

Dick was a little startled once he noticed that Bruce was staring at him, but he didn't think that it was too strange, just one of the other weird quirks his dad had. He was always on call as the world's greatest detective.

"How are you feeling, Dick?"

"I'm fine. Why?" He tried not to look Bruce in the eye and decided he found the bats getting ready for their nightly run around Gotham much more interesting.

Taking his chin in his hand, Bruce pressed the back of his hand against his forehead and noted, "You look a little sick."

Trying to perk himself up, Dick promised, "I feel great, just a little tired."

"Do you want to get some rest? I can write up the report for you if you want to lay down."

Ready to deny that he felt anything wrong, Dick decided that this was the perfect opportunity and said, "You know what, I think I do want to go to bed. I have some homework to work on, but I can get through it pretty fast and I think the sleep will do me some good."

Bruce let a small smile to come to his lips when he heard that Dick would be getting some rest and he said, "You can head up stairs, but you might want to take a quick shower to wash off all the sweat."

Watching the boy head up the stairs Bruce decided it would be best if he looked over some of the footage from the last few days. He buzzed up to Alfred to tell him that he would be eating in the cave and got to work on the computer.

He pulled up some of the security footage from a week ago and could tell that Dick looked sick there too. He asked himself he could miss so much, how he could let so much slip away.

Deciding he wasn't supposed to be thinking about himself, Bruce pushed his feelings aside and watched them have dinner. He saw Dick as excited as he ever was as he cut up his meal and told everyone about his day. He saw Tim paying at the utmost attention to everything his older brother said and he saw Dick steal some of the mashed potatoes off of his plate. He saw himself drinking some of his wine while Tim asked for some grape juice to play along and Dick as he drank his water. He saw Dick move some of his food onto another plate as he decided he was full and stacked up the plates ready to go to his room. The only thing he didn't see was Dick actually eat anything.

Bruce pulled up the dining room footage from breakfast and dinner a few weeks before, a month before, two months before, three, four, five, six, and he could count with one hand how many times Dick ate something. Even then it was never anything more than a bite.

Bruce wasn't stupid, he knew what it meant. He knew that he'd missed so much and that he would need to find a way to fix this soon. He looked over at the plate he couldn't remember Alfred bringing down and threw it to the ground as he imagined just how much he had failed his son. The hunger he would feel when he crawled into bed in a few hours would be nothing like how Dick was feeling.

There was nothing he could think he had done right, nothing that made him feel like he had done some good as a father and he wanted to run up to Dick's room but he knew he was in no state to do anything other than scare the boy and make him feel even worse than he already did.

* * *

Dick stepped out of the shower and dried off before he put on some boxers and stepped in front his mirror. He could tell that he looked different, the weight loss showed, even more so when he stuck his arms up and could count his rib, but he knew he had to be more careful. He could hide his stomach under shirts but his face looked thinner, his jawline looked sharper, and his hair was losing its glow and volume. Dick used to love the way his hair looked, it helped him pretend that he was actually Bruce's son and that was his guilty pleasure the first few months he was in the Manor. He could see the difference when he looked at Tim and sometimes he couldn't help but hate him a little for looking more like Bruce than he did but he always hated himself more after something like that even crossed his mind. He always wanted to run to the nearest toilet and throw up whatever remained of his stomach.

That didn't matter right now because Bruce was catching on and he didn't want to ruin things anymore than they already were. That was the last thing he needed.

Absentmindedly pouring the milk Alfred had left for down the sink, he decided he could try eating some toast tomorrow morning, just to throw him off. He knew he wouldn't put any jelly or honey on it though, that would be going too far.

He put the empty glass back on his nightstand and pulled on a loose shirt; it had clung to him a few months ago but now he could get lost in it.

Before he crawled into his bed Dick made his way to his door and left it ajar and pulled his blanket over himself. In a few minutes he heard Tim's soft footsteps make their way to the bathroom before the toilet flushed and the sink ran and he could imagine just how cute Tim would look as he stood on his tippie toes to reach the water and end up making half of his shirt wet. Soon enough the water stopped and Dick knew Tim was pulling down his towel to try and dry off his shirt before he walked out of his room and the footsteps stopped right in front of Dick's door. Even though his back was turned to the door Dick knew Tim was peeking in to make sure he as welcome and the door squeaked as he made his way in and closed it behind him.

Feeling the bed dip as Tim crawled up beside him and turned off the lamp, Dick lifted up his blanket so Tim could find his way next to him. With a happy sigh as Tim moved into his favorite position, Dick ran his hand through his soft, thick hair and closed his eyes.

Dick let himself feel weightless on the soft sheets with his little brother so close to him but knew he would hate just how heavy he was when he woke up in a few hours.

* * *

Waking up to find his bed empty, Dick made his way through his morning routine before he found himself downstairs with a full meal set out before him.

He could tell that Bruce was watching him and trying his hardest to make sure he wouldn't notice so Dick made sure to keep his promise to himself as he ate one whole piece of toast before saying, "I forgot I had to finish a worksheet so I'm going to run up and..."

Bruce gave him a sad look and held onto his wrist to beg, "Please, Dick. Try to eat some more." Seeing just how much his fingers overlapped when he wrapped them around Dick's wrist, Bruce tightened his grip and made sure the boy couldn't move.

Not wanting to make a scene in front of Tim, Dick sat back in his seat and slowly got through the rest of the toast. He broke it up into smaller pieces until he could trick himself into thinking he was actually eating a lot less and drank about a full liter of water before Bruce stopped looking at him.

After they were a few minutes into their little battle Tim got curious and he asked, "Is something wrong, Dick? You're acting a little weird."

Before Dick could think of a convincing enough lie, Bruce cut in and said, "Dick isn't really feeling well today, Tim. He's not going to school but if you want I can bring him with me when I come back to pick you up."

Nodding his head, Tim made his way around the table so he could give his brother a kiss and wished him well before he ran upstairs to change into his uniform.

With just the two of them in the room, Dick asked, "So when did you decide that I was going to play truant and miss school?"

"Dick, you know why. I'm taking you to go see a doctor." Bruce knew that Dick wanted to make light of the moment, try and hide how he felt, but he wouldn't let him.

"Dad."

Bruce took Dick's hand into his own and took note of just how thin his fingers were. "Please, Dick, don't fight me on this."

Even though he knew it was a dead end, Dick argued, "I just...I don't see why. It's not like anything bad has happened because of this."

Not letting the anger take over, Bruce challenged him, "Say what it is."

Confused, Dick glanced over to him and asked, "What?"

"You said 'nothing bad has happened because of this.' Tell me what 'this' is."

Angry that Bruce would pull something like this when all it could do was hurt him some more, Dick muttered, "You already know. I know you know."

"I do, but I want to hear you say it."

"I don't see why it's important."

Bruce tried to show just how sincere he was when he said, "It's important to me, Dick. It's really important to me."

Dick looked down onto his lap so he wouldn't have to look at him and he begged, "Bruce, please don't make me."

Getting out of his seat and putting his hand on Dick's back, feeling just how much his shoulder blades protruded, he promised, "Okay. Okay. I won't push you too much but you are going to see a doctor, Dick. I won't compromise on that."

Looking up to see the hurt on Bruce's face, Dick gave him a weak smile and got up to get ready to go to see whatever doctor Bruce had lined up.

Getting out of his school uniform and into something more comfortable, Dick tried his hardest to avoid looking at his reflection in the mirror. That was the last thing he needed right now.

* * *

Bruce sat out in the waiting room while Dick met with Leslie. The two of them had dropped Tim off to school and the eight year old had told Dick he hoped he would feel better after he got some rest. Tim didn't have any idea what his older brother was going through; he thought Dick had a cold and that a few spoonfuls of medicine would make him better by next morning.

The hurt in Dick's eyes wasn't easy to miss, he wanted to get better from his little brother and Bruce knew he would try his hardest. He might even be imagining what it would be like if Tim was in the same position as him, if he felt like he shouldn't eat or that he obsessed over how much he weighed, and it was too much for him.

After an hour he watched Leslie walk over to the receptionist and made sure she didn't have any patients for the rest of the day, canceled the board meeting, and gave Bruce a soft glance before going back to where Dick was waiting for her.

It was another two hours before the two of them walked out and Dick ran out to squeeze himself against Bruce's chest. It didn't take long for him to feel how wet his shirt became after Dick started to cry and Bruce let him for however long he needed.

Once Dick was ready to let go, he held onto Bruce's arm while he looked over to Leslie.

She enjoyed seeing the interaction between the two of them but she had to ask, "Can I talk to you, Bruce? Privately?"

Dick let go of his arm and watched him walk over to where Leslie was standing far enough away so he wouldn't hear.

She was blunt when she said, "He's going to need some therapy, Bruce, and I'd recommend not letting him go out at night. There's a very high chance that it won't end well. I want him to talk to a therapist everyday, someone who knows about his nightlife with experience with anorexia, but of the most important things is to make sure he knows he can come to you if he wants to."

Bruce took it all in but had to ask, "What did you two talk about? What did he say?"

Giving him a weak smile, Leslie said, "I can't tell you that, Bruce. He needs to know that he has some privacy, but I can promise you that I'll keep you informed about his condition."

Looking back to where Dick was playing with his hands, Bruce tried to force out something he was too afraid to know. "Is he...Is...Does he feel..."

Knowing just what he wanted to ask, Leslie sighed, "He didn't mention being suicidal and I didn't see any scars, but, Bruce, you're going to have to be strong enough for the both of you. He needs you now more than ever."

Looking at just how afraid Dick looked sitting in the too big for him seat, Bruce promised, "Just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it."

* * *

Dick crawled into bed as soon as he got home and decided against going to see Tim as he came home from school. That was the position Bruce left him in and that was how Tim found him when he looked in to see how he was feeling.

He tried to make his way into his brother's bed but Dick kept turning his back on him, pushing Tim out of the bed and refusing to say a word. Tim eventually gave up and pulled out his desk chair and rolled it out to sit beside Dick. Giving Dick a moment before he decided to start the conversation, Tim said, "Daddy said you're not the regular kind of sick, that you...need some help that doesn't involve medicine."

Once Dick didn't say anything back to confirm or correct what he said, Tim offered, "Can I help, Dick? Can I help?"

Slowly turning around to look at just how sincere his little brother was, Dick felt even worse for making him feel so bad. "It's not one of things that you can help with, Babybird."

Taking a hold of Dick's arm, Tim begged, "What can I do, Dick? I'll do anything you want me to."

Dick held up his blanket so Tim could crawl in and he tried not to feel jealous of how small Tim was when he settled on top of his chest. "Do you love me, Tim?"

Looking up at him surprised by the question could see just how different his older brother looked. Tim answered, "Of course I do, you're my big brother. I love very much."

Playing with the tips of his hair, Dick asked, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Even more confused, Tim asked, "Like girl pretty? Like how Aunt Diana is pretty?"

Dick cleared up, "Well like boy pretty. Handsome. Like Dad and everyone...You know, handsome."

Tim thought for a moment before he said, "You're very handsome, Dick, you look nice. You look...I want to look like you."

Feeling his chest give up on him, Dick tried to force air into his lungs. "No you don't, Timmy. You don't want to be like me."

Not liking what he heard in the slightest, Tim argued, "You're perfect, Dick. You're a perfect brother and you're a perfect person and you look perfect too."

"You're a perfect brother too, Tim, you don't even know."

Tim took the opportunity to ask, "Can we talk about it? About why you're sick and not medicine sick?"

Dick moved Tim until he couldn't see the look on his face when he said, "It's very complicated, Timbo, I don't even know everything, but I can promise you that I'll try my hardest. Honestly it's all I can do."

Tim took what he could get and offered, "I'll do anything, Dick, anything you want."


	12. Everything

Dick will always be there for everything Tim needs

 **Everything**

* * *

Even though he didn't have any idea who was playing or how the game actually worked, Tim stood up against the glass wall of the VIP box and stared down at the green field. His breath fogged the glass but he was still entranced by the beautiful field and he decided the trip was worth it. Tim had been forced to come along with his family and he made sure his annoyance was well known, but now looking down he couldn't wait to see all the players actually start playing the game.

Behind him Dick and Bruce were talking about the match, who they thought was going to win and which players were going to be playing a good game and who was overrated. When Bruce had told Dick he would be taking them out to see the first game in the new Gotham Knights stadium, Dick leapt into the air with excitement. For the last few weeks he had been arguing with Roy and Oliver about who was the better team, the Gotham Knights or the Star City Stars, and he wanted to be able to tell his uncle that he was in the stadium, in the private box, when he saw his team get creamed. Somehow the excitement had been channeled into Bruce and he wanted to rub the loss into Oliver's face as much as Dick did. They had even been able to convince Tim to wear yellow for the Knights, even if he didn't know how anything worked there was no reason he couldn't support the local team. Over the years Oliver and the other JL members and been slowly trying to turn Tim over to their side with their own merchandise and him completely decked out in Gotham memorabilia would be a serious step backwards for them.

Soon some of the employees of the of the stadium coming in to set out a buffet for them to dig into while they watched the game. Most of them were surprised when they realized that Bruce was the only adult in the room and even more so when he said that they didn't need to open up any of the alcohol. The private boxes were usually for people to show off just how much money and access they had, not to bring their kid in to enjoy a game.

After watched a young girl sing the national anthem, Tim immediately lost interest. There was very little real action and most of the time was spent looking at people talking to each other while they waited for someone to come up with a play. Unlike the other two who were very on the edge of their seat as they watched the game, Tim dug through Bruce's jacket until he found his phone and began to play one of his games. He gathered a few bottles of his favorite juice from the buffet and found a corner of the room where he wouldn't have to listen to his family. Every now and then he heard cheers or groans but he found Bruce's phone much more interesting than anything they could be watching.

Soon the door opened to their room opened and they watched as some of strangers strutted in. Even though he still didn't have any interest in the game, Tim didn't appreciate the interruption and he quickly got up to sit on Bruce's lap and put as much distance between him and the strangers as he could.

Bruce was just as surprised as him at the sound of the door being thrown open and when he found out who they were he frowned. He had wanted a relaxed day out with his sons and these weren't the people he wanted around them. Ever. The only reason he ever associated with them was because he was forced to, ignoring them would mean having them think that he hated them, even though he did, but the social impact wouldn't do him any good. They were all the children and grandchildren of people he worked very closely with and he wanted to avoid stringing his relationships with them as much as he could.

When he felt Tim make his way onto his lap he knew this wasn't going to be the happy day out he had planned for, but he promised himself to keep his focus on the boys. Tim always considered him to be the safest option to find refuge from something he didn't like and considering how hard the boy was trying to let him and Dick enjoy the game in peace, Bruce held him close to his chest and gave him the safety he needed.

Bruce decided he wouldn't be rude, he'd pretend to be interested in whatever they said and he wouldn't flinch away from the crude language and flirting but he would make sure his sons were enjoying the game above all else. If push comes to shove, he might just have to call in the security and have the group escorted out, but he wanted to avoid that as long as he could.

Finally noticing that there were other people in the room as Tim ran out from his hiding space, Dick leaned over to Bruce and groaned, "I thought you promised that we would be alone, that you didn't have to bother with any business."

Getting ready to pretend to be excited to see the others, Bruce explained, "This isn't business. I don't really know what this is."

As soon as they were finished looking through the buffet and searching the cabinets for alcohol that wasn't there, one of the girls made her way over. She walked up to the back of the couch and ran a hand through Bruce's shoulder before coming around the side and trying to sit on his lap. She was annoyed to find that Tim had already claimed the seat and Tim was just as annoyed that she could be so rude. Quickly recovering, she returned to the back of the couch and circled her arms around Bruce's neck. She leaned in to whisper, "Brucie, who are these two lovely boys? I didn't expect that you'd have company over."

Trying his hardest to ignore the irony of that statement, Bruce broke her hold and introduced them with, "They are my sons. Richard and Timothy."

Hearing Bruce avoid using his nickname, Dick knew that he was trying to avoid any inappropriate jokes and trying to keep as much distance between them and the strangers as possible.

Tim didn't really care, but he peeked over Bruce's shoulder to glare at all of them at once and ask, "Why are you here?"

Another girl came to Bruce's side and took a place on the couch before running her hand through his bangs and explaining, "We heard that Brucie was here and decided he needed the company. We didn't want him to be lonely."

Tim immediately recognized that he didn't like the way the lady was trying to get close to his dad so he slowly pushed her over until there was enough room for Dick to sit down and act as a buffer. He even kicked off one of the boys who tried to take a seat on the arm of the couch when he tried to make a joke about Dick's name that Tim knew Dick hated.

When he was sure Bruce was safe, Tim returned his attention to Bruce's phone. He looked up every couple of minutes to make sure no one else was trying to take his place but he found that he couldn't do anything to stop them from taking up the empty seats and trapping his family in a circle of their bodies. Tim wanted to be rude, he wanted to tell them to leave them alone because no one wanted their company, but he had been raised better than that and he settled for the space closest to Bruce.

Tim could tell that Dick had the same opinion of the intruders that he did, but instead of saying anything the two used their own private gestures to communicate how annoying and rude and mean and loud they were.

* * *

Half way through the game Bruce got a phone call from Luscious he had to step out and work on something. Tim had to step off from his seat to save his spot and he couldn't help but feel vulnerable without Bruce there to protect him. It was also when he noticed just how much he had to do to the bathroom. He tried to wait until Bruce walked back in so he could have some company, but the call ran for over 10 minutes and Tim was reduced to shaking in his seat to try to distract himself. It turned out that using juice as a way to distract him from the boring game wasn't a good plan and now he had to step out with or without Bruce. The problem was that everyone could tell that he needed to go and they decided to use this as a way to get back at him for keeping Bruce's attention off of themselves.

Tim didn't want to bother Dick, they had stopped using their own secret language about an hour ago so Dick could focus on the game and he looked very interested so Tim decided to get find a restroom by himself. As soon as he stepped off the couch and tried to get out room a maze of legs formed around him and none were willing to move no matter how much he urged.

It all culminated in him not being able to control his bladder and wetting his pants.

The smell got most of their attention but it was the tears that made Dick turn away from the windows. Seeing his brother's distress and immediately recognizing what was wrong when Tim tried to use his hands to cover up the growing stain, Dick could tell that he needed to get Tim out of the room as soon as possible. As soon as he stood up and made his way over to his crying brother, he shot the others in the room a glare and the laughing stopped. No one apologized, they weren't capable of that, but they did decide that the game was worth more of their attention than the distressed boy in the middle of the room.

Dick picked up his brother and held him against his chest as he made his way out of the room and slammed the door behind them. It didn't take long for them to find the closest bathroom and once they found one, Dick made sure no one was inside and locked the door for some privacy.

He sat Tim down on the floor before he gathered some of the of paper towels to dry up his tears. Once he was sure Tim was done crying, Dick kneeled down in front of him and asking, "How are you feeling, Babybird?"

"I wanna go home, Dick. I don't wanna to stay. I don't like this." Tim threw his arms around his neck and wanted so badly for them to somehow find their way back home as fast as possible. He didn't care how he must have looked, he just couldn't stand to be there anymore and he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Returning the hug and rubbing circles into his back, Dick promised him, "We'll go find Dad as soon as I can get you cleaned up."

As soon as Tim let go of him, Dick took off his own stained jacket and coaxed Tim to step out of his pants. He made sure not to seem disgusted by the urine that got on his hands and as soon as he got the clothes off, he threw them in the trash. Dick pulled out some more paper towels and ran them under water and cleaned Tim off thoroughly. He decided to put some soap on the paper towels to try to get rid of the smell and help Tim feel more comfortable for when they would have to walk back into the room with rude strangers to get the rest of their things.

After he was cleaned off, Dick saw Tim dig out his jacket from the trash and pull it on despite the small stain from where Dick had been holding him. It was big enough to hide most everything about Tim, but Dick knew it gave him a little comfort he really needed so he didn't bother questioning it. Once Tim was settled into the jacket, Dick untied his shorts from around his hips and helped Tim step into them. After he tied them tight enough that they wouldn't fall off as soon as Tim moved, he hide the string in the shorts and took a step back to take in just how the shorts were big enough to be pants on Tim.

Dick thought about giving him his boxers, they would definitely fit Tim better, but he knew that might also be a little more embarrassing for him so he abandoned the idea. There might be someone selling some shorts around the stadium, but then Dick didn't have any cash money and he would need to leave Tim by himself and that was not going to happen.

Once they were both settled and clean, Dick asked, "Is there anything else you need, Timbo?"

Tim once again threw himself against Dick and muttered, "I love you, Dick."

Letting a smile come across his face, Dick said, "You now I'll do everything you need me to. Even now, you just look like a miniature version of me in my shorts and jacket."

Looking up at him and enjoying how Dick was trying to make light of the situation, Tim promised, "You're not going to get this jacket back. It's mine now, Dick."

Laughing as he took Tim's hand and lead him out of the bathroom, Dick decided to walk around the stadium to calm Tim's nerves. He knew people were staring at him and talking about how he was walking around in boxers, but he was just happy that he chose today to wear the pair that was just a little too big for him. Anytime someone got even close to getting ready to tell him something, Dick shot him or her a glare until he or she sat back down and left the two of them alone.

Tim enjoyed the walk, it was relaxing to focus his attention on other things, and Dick felt it was a perfect opportunity to use his emergency credit card to find some chili fries before they found a seat where they could still see some of the game.

Sitting down beside one of large windows, Tim refused to move more than two inches from his brother's side and while they sat in silence eating he decided to explain what had happened. "They knew that I needed to go, Dick. They knew. But they wouldn't let me. They acted like they didn't know, but I told them and they still wouldn't let me leave."

Clenching his fists, Dick wanted to run back and beat all of them up, but instead he chose to seat Tim on his lap while he rocked him back and forth. As soon as Tim was a little more stable he asked, "Why didn't you tell me, Babybird? I would've led you out as soon as you said something."

Playing with the hem of Dick's jacket, Tim mumbled, "You were watching your game and I didn't want to bother you and I didn't think they would be mean about it. I don't know, Dick, I just...I didn't think it would happen like that."

Dick wrapped his arms tightly around him and reminded him, "Tim, I'll take care of everything that bothers you, okay. I don't care what it is or what I'm doing, I'll do it. If you needed my help, you should have just asked. Like now, as soon as we're done eating we'll go find Bruce and go home."

Once they were sure Bruce would be done with the phone call and back in the room waiting for them, the two found their way back to the VIP box and Dick quietly opened the door to peek in and find Bruce. He was sitting in the same spot and doing his best to ignore the crowd behind him.

As soon as he saw his dad, Tim ran past everyone and found his way back onto his lap and clung to him as if he was his lifeline. Bruce was shocked, he hadn't been expecting this strong of a reaction, and as soon as he was able to comprehend the situation he rocked Tim until he was ready to show his face.

Dick sat down next to them and frowned at the sight. He had hoped that their little trip around the stadium would have made him feel a little better, but now he could see that wasn't happening. If there was anything good about the situation, it was that none of the others in the room were laughing anymore, but that might have had more to do with the fact that there was an actual adult in the room.

Once he could feel that Tim was beginning to settle down and felt a little better, Bruce rubbed circles into Tim's back and asked, "What's wrong, Tim? Did something happen?"

One of the guys, Dick refused to learn any of their names so he'd labeled them 'Assholes' and numbered them 1-8 in his head, took over and answered, "He had a little accident in his pants."

Shooting him a glare and knowing that he was trying to hide how they had hurt his little brother, Dick took over and explained, "Timmy needed to go to the bathroom and they wouldn't let him leave and he couldn't hold it in."

"They wouldn't let him?" Bruce questioned.

Not caring about the looks that were thrown in his direction, Dick scooted closer to Tim and tried to comfort him. Looking up at Bruce, Dick explained, "Timmy told them he needed to leave for the bathroom, but they ignored him and blocked his path until he...yeah."

Asshole 4 got up from her seat and made her way beside Tim where she tried to assure him, "You should've told us, baby. If anything happened it wasn't on purpose and we didn't mean to make you upset."

Flinching away as soon as he felt her hand on his shoulder, Tim pushed himself further into Bruce's torso trying to get away. Bruce responded by moving Tim to his other side to put some more distance between them. He could tell that she and everyone else in the room had been lying to him and there was really only one thing to do.

Bruce didn't even bother saying anything to anyone before he got up and let Tim wrap his arms around his neck while they walked out. Dick wanted to do something, he wanted to hit everyone in the room or at the very least yell at them for hurting his little brother, but he saw Tim peeking up from the top of Bruce's shoulder waiting for him so he quickly made his way over.

* * *

Once they were home Tim had stopped caring about everything. A quick bath and a movie in the theater room were all he needed, especially when Dick felt a little too guilty to leave his side. The two spent the rest of the day trying to forget what they could about the incident while Bruce made sure Alfred knew to never invite those people to any functions he held.

In-between messing with Tim about how he looked in the too big jacket, Dick looked up the names and information of Assholes 1-8 and hacked into their various social media accounts. He wanted to see if there was anything he could use as revenge and settled for giving the GCPD an anonymous tip about where they bought, used, and hid their drugs. The footage of them being escorted to the police station might make Tim feel a little better, but it definitely did wonders for Dick. He was willing to do more, something to make them realize just how large failures they actually were, but he decided he'd already given them too much of his time and he should now turn to messing with his little brother.

It turned out that Tim had been eyeing his jacket for a while and now that he had it, he wasn't going to let it go anytime soon. He even tried to convince Alfred that he could take his bath with the jacket over his shoulders but a single unimpressed look was enough for him to give up. Tim relented and took off Dick's jacket once Alfred promised he would get it back in a few minutes after he put it through a washing machine and that no harm would come to it. Dick tried to distract Tim with some of his bath toys while the two waited for Alfred to return and once he saw just how Tim lit up watching Alfred walk into the bathroom with the now clean and ironed jack, he knew he was never going to get a chance to wear it again. It was Tim's now.

The eight year old also demanded that Bruce join the two of them for a movie even if it meant he would have to stay up past his bedtime. The slight bending of the rules didn't seem to matter too much because soon Tim was passed out on top of Bruce while the movie ran in the background. He had one hand clenching onto Bruce's shirt while the other held onto his hand. Over the years Tim had grown less and less dependent on Bruce for support but now, even with the cruel circumstances that had brought them to this point, Bruce appreciated being able to give him the protection he needed.

Studying the look on his father's face, Dick knew exactly what he was thinking about and said, "I just don't get why they would do that to him."

Bruce sighed and let Tim adjust himself in his sleep before replying, "They wanted by attention and were upset to find out that I preferred your company over theirs."

Dick understood what Bruce was saying, people would give up a lot just to have a minute to talk to his dad, but he had to stress, "I don't want Tim near people like that. He doesn't deserve to have them torment him."

Chuckling as Dick's protectiveness shone through, Bruce promised, "I've already made sure that doesn't happen, and I know you did too."


	13. Learning Curve III

Bruce stared up at the screen as he considered all of his options. He knew from his meeting with Leslie less than an hour ago that he had missed something important to do with Tim and his father and he needed to fix things soon or he would risk losing his son forever. The awkward and strained meeting between the two of them at Wayne Tower had made that clear enough.

Soon after Tim had become his Robin, Bruce had installed cameras in his home. He knew it was a massive violation of privacy, something he wasn't sure he would forgive himself for, but it seemed like the right choice. At the very least he wasn't regretting his decision now.

The cameras were only ever placed in 'public' areas of the house. He avoided the bathrooms knowing that would have meant he had gone too far and the cameras in the bedroom had added encryption as they were meant to be used in the most dire of circumstances.

Bruce had never felt the need to look through the footage in the past, there wasn't any incident that called for their use, but now they were his only choice.

He pulled up the file on the BatComputer where the footage from the cameras had been uploaded and entered the encryption key. He watched as numbers ran across the screen and soon he was given access and began looking through the footage chronologically.

There were in total ten cameras in the house and he began playing them all at the same time, each stream taking up a portion of the large screen. Bruce would need to go through years and years of footage and most of it would be empty rooms so his best option was to watch all ten streams at the same time and pay attention to the action.

Bruce began from six years ago and he saw himself pulling back from the camera as he made sure it was secure in its position and secluded enough that the family wouldn't notice.

He fast forwarded through the empty footage and stopped to see an eleven year old Tim crawl in through the window outside of his room. It struck Bruce how small the boy had really been, far smaller than most of the kids his age although not much had changed in that regard.

Tim opened the door to his room, stretched out his arms, and called for his father. He investigated all of the rooms in the house before realizing he was alone and returned back to his room looking defeated.

Bruce wanted to crawl into the screen and comfort the boy but he knew he had missed his chance many times over. The only thing he could do now was try and repair the relationship he had slowly destroyed over the years.

The footage of the next few weeks was normal. Tim woke up in the morning, went about his daily routine, left for school, came back around midnight, realized he was still alone, and resigned himself to his room.

A part of Bruce knew it was his fault. He was the one pushing the boy back to the empty house when he didn't have anyone there to welcome him, but the only thing he had thought at the time was that the boy wasn't Dick, that he would never be Dick. That was all that had mattered to him.

Curious, Bruce paused the security feed and found the ones of the cave around the same time.

He used the cameras in the cave to look in when he was out of town, but he wanted to remember just what Tim's training had been like. It all just seemed like a haze to him, something ancient that he couldn't quite remember, so he welcomed opportunity to watch the boy as he became a brilliant Robin.

Going back a little too far into the past, Bruce watched the first time Tim had set foot in the BatCave.

Dick lead Tim down the staircase and exclaimed, "It's called the BatCave!"

"It's incredible! Look at all those computers. Look at at the trophies. Look how big it is." Tim ran around the room, investigating anything that caught his eye before stopping in his tracks and whispering, "I can't believe I'm actually here."

Dick walked over to the case that preserved his costume and stood in shock at the sight of the remains of his childhood. "Robin-? Those were the days." Pulling off his clothes, he turned to face Tim and explain, "But Thomas Wolfe was right...You can't go home again, and you must go on."

He proudly stood before Tim wearing his old Nightwing costume and the boy argued, "No, not Nightwing. Dick, don't you understand? Batman needs Robin!" Turning back to Alfred, Tim asked, "Doesn't anyone understand?"

Watching Dick leave to run after Bruce, Alfred said, "Perhaps, young man. Perhaps Master Dick understands profoundly - perhaps that is why he brought you here."

Tim stood beside Alfred with shook clear on his face as he realized what Dick and Alfred meant.

Bruce couldn't help but want to thank Alfred and Dick for having the foresight he never had. He had no idea where he would be if Tim had never become his Robin, but he was sure he would be a shell of the person he was now and for that he would be eternally thankful.

Remembering just why he had pulled up the stream of the cave, Bruce speed past some of the footage until he saw Tim begin his training.

Only a week after the previous events, Bruce had been leading Tim through acrobatic routines that tested the training the boy had already had. Watching as Tim repeated the program Dick had just shown him, Bruce noticed that the boy had learned things far faster than he had ever given him credit for.

He remembered that it had been because of the distance he had put between him and Tim, enough so that the eleven year old wouldn't falsely interpret his actions as actually caring. Bruce wanted to go back in time to force himself to understand that he was hurting a boy that meant the world to him, a boy that needed him more than anyone.

He watched Dick leave as he needed to get some sleep before he turning in for work and Tim gave him a small wave goodbye. In a few short months the two would grow much closer, but Bruce knew their relationship had taken time to foster and he wouldn't wish for anything to change any part of it. Even now, any choice that Dick made was because of what he interpreted to be the best choice for Tim, even if he was wrong at times.

With only the two of them in the cave, Bruce told Tim to go over the routine Dick has shown him while he turned his attention to the computer and pulled up the police reports for that night. Behind his back, Tim dutifully followed his orders perfectly, only faltering when Bruce looked at the time on the screen an hour later and called out softly, "You should get some sleep now, Dick."

Tim looked at his back confused, but he quickly pulled back his composure and made his way out the cave. He didn't say anything as he walked up the stairs, not wanting to ruin the mirage he had put up or force Bruce to face a reality he wasn't ready for.

Bruce speed through the next couple of months and he watched as Tim stopped being surprised every time Bruce said the wrong name. The eleven year old decided it was just another way he could help his hero and he focused on not making any noise, not doing or saying anything that was too...Tim.

Only now did Bruce notice the look in Tim's eyes, the one that he hadn't yet taught the boy how to hide, as he began to expect the harsh treatment and took it gracefully because he decided it was just another part of his job.

Unable to bare the look on the boy's face, Bruce closed the stream began playing the footage of Tim's home.

It wasn't too helpful in lifting Bruce's spirits as he had to watch the boy continue to be disappointed with just how empty his home was, but Bruce reminded himself this wasn't about him, it was about trying to find a way to fix his relationship with his son.

Tim came home right after school and set his backpack down on the floor. He walked up to the fridge and refilled his water bottle but he turned around to see his father sitting down on the couch.

Tim walked up to his father and gleefully asked, "Hey, Dad. Where had you been?"

He tried not to seem too upset or controlling, but it had been over three months since he had seen his father and he was curious.

Not bothering to look up, Jack simply responded, "Working." He missed the way his son's face deflated at the curt response, but Tim sat beside his father nonetheless.

"Did you do anthi-"

"Tim, go into the cupboard and get me a drink. I'm going to leave for a meeting soon and I'm going to need something to make it less painful."

Jack thought he was being funny, that Tim wouldn't care about how much time they spent together, but Tim was too afraid to tell him otherwise and he did as he was told.

It was the look on his face that did it for Bruce. Tim looked like he expected the treatment and between the way he and Jack had complete disregard for his feeling, Bruce couldn't blame him.

He thought for a moment that this was what Leslie had been talking about, the reason she had practically collapsed at their last meeting, but he wasn't willing to risk missing something even more telling of the pain was feeling.

Apparently the meeting that Jack had been talking about had lasted for over two months because that was how long it took him to come back home. He had come back almost as soon as Tim had left for school so he missed seeing him out.

Jack made his way through the hallway drunk and leaning onto the hallway looking for support. The forty year old stumbled his way over to Tim's room and he slammed the door open.

Bruce decided that the situation warranted it, so he decrypted the feed from Tim's bedroom and began to watch.

When he found the room unoccupied, Jack rummaged through his drawers, looked into his closet, and lifted up all of the sheets from his bed still not finding whatever he was looking for. Scowling, Jack walked out of the room, leaving it a mess, and went to pass out on the couch in the living room.

He stayed there until Tim came home into the early hours of the night. Tim dropped his bags and rushed over to Jack imagining the worst when he didn't move at any of the sounds he made. Turning Jack over to his side, Tim pleaded, "Dad! Dad! Are you alright?"

Jack groaned at the interruption and promptly threw Tim to the ground when he realized who had woken him up from his sleep. Tim didn't argue, but he quietly rose from his place on the ground and followed Jack to the kitchen still worried about his state.

Glancing at the clock, Jack turned to Tim and said, "It's well past dinner time. What did you make?"

Unsure of where to look, Tim stared at the ground and forced out, "I just got home so I didn't have time. I'm sorry."

Jack just stared at him before asking, "Why aren't you making anything right now?"

Straightening up, Tim quickly pulled out things from the cabinets and began making something simple, spaghetti, and laid it out for his father. Staring down at the food unimpressed, Jack picked up the plate and went to eat it in his own room.

Watching at his father's back as he walked away, Tim sighed and cleaned up the kitchen before picking up his bag to go to his room and get some homework done.

Bruce slammed his fist into the controls of the computer and wanted so much to bring Jack back from the grave so he could give him a piece of his mind. Tim had been twelve in the video and far too alone for anyone his age or older.

Now Bruce was beginning to see the warning signs he had missed all those years ago, the lost look, the obsessive need to please, and the lack of self esteem, but he knew there was more. More evidence of his failings as a father as he could only imagine Tim's relationship with his father had only gotten worse from his point.

Bruce watched as the mistreatment became a lot more constant and Bruce soon had no reservations labeling it criminal abuse. A few moments stuck out the most and it took everything in Bruce to not rise from his chair and make his way over to Tim and envelope him in an embrace.

It had been a long night as Robin and a thirteen year old Tim was ready to get to bed. He still had the baby fat on his cheeks, but the menacing Robin was also there ready to tear criminals apart beside Batman and replayed their patrol over and over again in his head with a smile on his face.

Before he could crawl into his covers, Tim heard a heard a crash from downstairs. Immediately making his way in the direction of the commotion, Tim found his father standing in the kitchen with a bottle in one hand and broken glass on the floor.

Increasingly aware of the fact that neither of them were wearing any protection on their feet, Tim kept some distance between him and the shards and asked, "Are you alright?"

Jack shot him a glare before mocking, "Yeah I'm perfectly fine…no I'm not alright. I spilled my drink on the ground. Why would I be alright?"

Tim flinched back at the tone and quickly made his way to the sink so he could get a washcloth and clean up the mess. Before he could even try, Jack tripped him and he landed on top of the broken glass and screamed out as it cut through his skin. The shards sparkled in the dim kitchen light and Tim was thankful to be wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt.

Hissing as he tried to stand up, Tim stared at the blood coming out of his palms and looked up to see Jack looking disappointed. At this point, that was the only expression he was capable of.

Tim could tell Jack had been hoping that Tim would fight him, that he was willing to stand up for himself when faced by a bully, but Tim knew better than to show any of his Robin training in front of anyone.

Not offering any help, Jack dug into a cabinet and found another glass and left Tim to deal with his injuries himself.

Bruce knew Tim could have fought him off easily, could have regained his balance before he landed on the shards and sent Jack to the hospital, but there was an emotional reason that he didn't put Jack in his place. Despite everything, Tim loved Jack.

One of the last clips Bruce saw was just a few weeks before Jack eventually died. To be honest, Bruce didn't feel too bad about that now.

Once again drunk, Jack made his way into Tim's room and began searching his closet. He threw Tim's cloths on the ground, completely destroyed some of the things Tim had kept for safekeeping in shoeboxes, until it was empty. He noticed a crack in the wall and clawed at it until he took out the paneling and could reach some fabric on the inside of the wall.

At first Jack thought it was just some black fabric, but he pulled it out nonetheless and could immediately recognize the Robin costume. Even in his inebriated state, it didn't take long for Jack to put it all together.

He sat down on Tim's bed and stared at the costume until he heard the front door open a few hours later. Tim walked into his room completely unaware and gasped at the sight of it completely destroyed.

Jack stood before him and hide his findings behind his back as he growled out, "Is there anything you want to tell me, Tim?"

Confused, Tim said, "I'm not really sure what you're talking about Dad."

Taking a hold of Tim's arm and holding him against the wall, Jack showed him the suit and asked, "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Tim eyes grew at the sight and tried to find something to say, but nothing came out before Jack turned him around and pressed his face into the wall. He wrapped his hand around Tim's arm and turned it until Tim had to scream out against the pain shooting through him.

Moving him off of the wall just so he could push him into it again, Jack screamed into Tim's ear, "What the hell is this, Tim? What the fuck?"

Gasping for his breath as Jack refused to stop pressing on his lungs, Tim choked out, "I can explain, Dad. It's not that bad."

Turning his arm even more so, enough that they could hear something crack and the weak gasp that Tim let out, Jack pressed on, "Not that bad? You've been running around as Robin all this time. I'm not a fucking idiot, Tim. I can figure out that Bruce is Batman, that Dick is Nightwing."

Adamant about keeping as much hidden as he could, Tim tried to say, "No. That's not-"

Slamming him again, Tim could tell he was bleeding from his eyebrow and he flinched back as Jack yelled out, "Don't you dare say that it isn't true, you little piece of shit. Why do you want to protect them, Tim? Why would you do this?"

Trying to shake his head as he tried to keep the blood from getting into his eye, Tim tried to explain, "B-Gotham needs a Robin."

Turning him around once again so Jack could look Tim in the eye, he glared at the fifteen year old and thought out loud, "You wanted to say Bruce, that Bruce needs a Robin." Letting his hand get tangled in Tim's hair, Jack pulled at it until he hissed and asked with a low voice, "Are you fucking him? Is that what this is about? You and your daddy issues?"

Tim had not been expecting that lewd of a question and before he could tell Jack off for how stupid he was, he kneed Tim in the stomach and kicked him until he was in the fetal position on the ground.

Growing bored after a few minutes, Jack threw the costume beside his body stared at him from the doorway before finishing, "I don't see how you could be any good, you can't even take a few light hits. Bruce really must be keeping you around to look at you. If he hasn't fucked you yet, it's only a matter of time you know."

Once he was alone, Tim reached out for his suit and curled around it as he resigned himself to the floor. He rubbed his thumb over the Robin emblem on the chest and wept into the tunic just loud enough to be picked up the camera.

Everything turned red and Bruce didn't even bother closing the feed before he stormed out the cave, grabbed the keys to the his car, and ignored the speed limit as he made his way to Tim's apartment.

* * *

Taking in a deep sigh, Bruce knocked on the front door and watched closely as Tim's eyes grew a little darker as soon as they laid on him. Bruce tried to give him a smile, something to calm both of them down as he tried to reconcile the fact that the very sight of him would cause his son to react so deeply, but it only served to make the teenager even more confused.

Trying not to care too much about why Bruce was here, Tim asked politely, "Is there anything I can help you with, Bruce?"

Bruce tried to assure him, "I don't need anything, Tim. I just wanted to stop by."

Creasing his eyebrows, Tim studied Bruce to see if there were any signs of mind control, poisoning, or manipulation. When he couldn't find any of the regular tells, Tim stood aside and welcomed Bruce into his home.

The first thing Bruce realized was that there was nothing personal about the apartment. He didn't have any posters, any clothes lying around, wrappers, bottles, pictures, anything to make it look like a home.

Tim lead him to the living room and offered him a seat on the couch while he left to find his laptop. Not wanting to question why Tim would need his laptop, Bruce sat quietly and promised himself to pay attention to whatever the boy would have to say. Sitting down across from Bruce, Tim logged in and pulled up some information from his patrols.

Realizing that Tim thought this was a performance evaluation, Bruce called out softly, "Tim."

Ignoring him, Tim started, "Ever since you'd left, there had been a gradual increase in crime, but those numbers turned back to normal pretty soon after you came and-"

"Tim, I didn't-"

"And they've really only been going lower since then."

"Tim, this isn't-"

Tim shook his head disappointed in himself as he realized, "But you probably already knew that because you should have access for this information so you want to know about what's been going on with me."

Tim tried to open up another report, but before he could reach the keys Bruce took hold of his hands. Looking up at him confused and tired, Tim asked, "What's the matter, Bruce?"

Bruce made him stand up and lead him to what he expected to be one of the bedrooms. Just like the rest of the apartment, it looked like something out of a catalog. There was very little to show that someone actually lived in it, but nonetheless Bruce moved Tim closer to his bedroom and said, "I can tell you need some sleep."

Raising an eyebrow, Tim asked confused, "What? Is that why you came here? I know how to take care of myself."

Not wanting to get into any arguments, Bruce explained, "I know you can, but you haven't so far and if I need to watch your every move to make sure you're getting the sleep you need I will do it."

Crossing his arms and glaring up at his former mentor, Tim asserted, "I'm not your responsibility, Bruce."

"Yes you are. You're my son." Bruce put his hands on Tim's shoulder and unknowingly cornered him against the wall. Immediately Bruce could tell Tim was imagining that Bruce was Jack and that killed something inside of him. Bruce was still firm, but he made sure to soften his hold as he tried to communicate with his son.

Shaking his head, Tim looked to the ground and breathed out, "Stop. You can't-"

"Yes I can. You are my son and-"

Deciding that if he was ever going to speak up for himself it was going to have to be now, Tim countered, "You can't just make me your son when you feel like it, Bruce. You can't just act like I'm a part of your family for a while and then change your mind. It's...It's not something you can just toss around."

Pressing his forehead to Tim's, Bruce said, "I'm sorry, Tim. I know I messed up, I didn't see things I should have and I left you with someone who didn't know how to take care of you."

Finally letting something inside of him break, Tim asked, "Why didn't you do anything? You...you just...you didn't care, Bruce. You didn't care."

Pulling him into his arms, Bruce promised, "I didn't know, Tim. I swear I didn't know. I don't know how I missed it, how I didn't notice what he was doing to you, but I'm sorry."

Bruce could feel Tim's mouth agape on his chest and he held the boy while he wept into his chest. Tim hadn't imagined that the world's greatest detective would've missed what Jack had done and he had to take a moment to comprehend what Bruce had said.

A few moments later, Tim murmured into his chest, "You didn't know?"

Ashamed, Bruce admitted, "I didn't. I'm not going to give you an excuse but I didn't know. If I had, I promise if I had thought he even directed a curse at you, I would have taken you out of his reach as soon as I could. When I saw what he did-"

Putting a little distance between them so he could look up at Bruce, Tim asked, "Saw? How did you see? How did you find out?"

"I...After you became Robin I put some cameras in your home." Seeing Tim's eyes flare up at the invasion of privacy, Bruce explained, "Today was the first time I used them, but Tim, I don't care what you say I won't apologize. I put them there so I could make sure you were okay and the only thing I will apologize for is not using them as much as I should have. If I could go back in the past I would watch the feed every night and the first time you had to go to sleep alone I would have taken you in."

Tim looked up at him in wonder with too many emotions for Bruce to read, but he broke out of Bruce's hold and for a quick moment Bruce thought he had messed things up to the point where their relationship was irreparable, but he watched Tim sit on the edge of his bed and hide his face in his knees.

With a weak broken voice, Tim asked, "Bruce?"

Kneeling before him, Bruce answered with a calm voice, "Yes, Tim?"

"Do you think...maybe...Do you love me?"

Bruce shot up and embraced Tim while he promised, "More than anything, Tim, more than I knew it was possible to love someone, Tim. I love you and you're my son. That is never going to change."

Clawing his nails into Bruce's chest, Tim held onto him while Bruce maneuvered the both of them onto his bed. They stayed like that for well into an hour, Tim crying into Bruce as long as he could make the tears, but soon Bruce slowly began detaching himself. He pulled Tim's arm off of his side and slowly rose up from the bed.

Tim shot up afraid, afraid that he would have to spend another night alone, but he felt Bruce lift him up and carry him into the kitchen. Confusion took over, but Tim didn't try to fight it and he relented when Bruce sat him down on the chair.

Rummaging through his pantry and fridge, Bruce apologized, "The bad thing about living with Alfred is that you never have to learn how to cook, so the best I can do for you is cereal and orange juice."

It was the first time in who knows how long Tim let out a laugh and it made Bruce feel something deep inside his chest. Smiling down at him, Bruce set down the cereal milk and bowls before pulling out his own seat and digging in.

Scratching his eyes once they began to feel raw from all that crying, Tim smiled into his bowl and said, "I really don't know what would have happened if you never let me be Robin."

Taking his hand into his own, Bruce kissed his knuckles and promised, "You will always be my Robin, Tim."

They finished their meal in silence, both thinking that Dick hate to know he wasn't here to eat cereal with them, before Bruce took the plates into the sink and carried Tim back to his room and laid him across the bed.

Finding some of Tim's pjs and placing them in his hand, Bruce said, "You're going to want to get a good night's rest, Tim. Tomorrow is going to be a big day."

Tim tilted his head to the side and asked, "Why? Did I forget something?"

Finding something that would fit his much larger form, Bruce opened the door to the bathroom and began changing before he called out, "You're moving back home tomorrow, Tim."

Frozen with his arms above his head and his sleeping shirt halfway on, Tim stared at the wall he knew Bruce was behind. His mind was stuck trying to comprehend the information and he wasn't able to do more than one thing at the same time. Walking in on seeing him in the awkward position, Bruce helped him pull on the shirt and turned off the light before crawling in beside him.

Tim put his head on his chest and laid there thankful that he didn't have anymore tears to let out. He closed closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of Bruce's cologne, and calmed himself until he was able to formulate words.

Taking a hold of one of his hands, Tim played with Bruce's large fingers before looking up to him and asking, "Bruce?"

"Yes, Tim?"

Turning his gaze away to hide his blush, Tim confessed, "I love you."

Kissing him on the top of his head, Bruce promised, "I love you too, Tim."


	14. Learning Curve IV

Tim woke up to the feeling of Bruce's chest rising and falling softly as he slept on. Blinking himself awake, Tim felt a puddle of his drool on on Bruce's shirt and tried to pat it dry before he woke up. He ended up doing nothing to help the situation and all he ended up doing was waking Bruce up to the feeling of a light pat on his chest.

Not used to sleep soundly, Bruce basked in Tim's warmth before nudging him to get his attention and greeting, "Good morning, Tim."

Smiling up at the soft tone, Tim replied, "Morning, Bruce." He didn't know why but his toes curled up and it just might have to do with him feeling much safer than he had in weeks, in months.

Understanding that emotions were almost as hard for Tim as they were for him, Bruce urged Tim back into his original position and calmly asked, "How are you feeling?"

Holding his hand out while he waited for Bruce to offer him his, Tim played around with the massive size difference in their fingers while he tried to figure out what the best response would be. "I think I'm still asleep, but I'm not sure. I still think that this might all just be a dream."

Bruce softly rubbed his knuckles while he asked, "Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?"

Tim sighed into Bruce's chest and tried to shake off the rest of his sleepiness. Even though he couldn't think straight yet, he still knew, "Yeah but...Bruce I don't want to talk about that right now. I'd much rather get some breakfast and coffee first and then have a serious conversation."

Bruce knew a diversion when he saw one, but he decided to indulge Tim. "That's no problem, but I'm assuming that we're going to be eating cereal again?"

Getting up from his place in Bruce's side, Tim stretched out his arms and thought out loud, "I can probably make something light, but it's not going to be anywhere near as good as what Alfred makes."

Bruce gave him a soft laugh and promised him, "Don't worry. I've learned not to hold it against people."

* * *

Standing over the stove as he made some toast, Tim hummed a soft song while he waited for the coffee to finish roasting. It was a strange sight for Bruce to walk in on, Tim was still wearing his pajamas and he still wasn't fully awake at the moment, but Bruce appreciated the lack of stress or worry in Tim's stance. He didn't know how long it had been since Tim felt that at ease and Bruce knew that if they could make this much progress in a single day, in a few weeks he would have his son back.

Bruce pulled out a seat at the breakfast nook and asked, "Where did you learn to cook?" Just from the smell he could note, "It's already seems scores ahead of anything Dick and I could possibly make." There was a particular lack of burning toast and spilled salt that always seemed to follow any time they came anywhere near the kitchen.

Obviously it was the wrong question to ask considering Tim straightened up, but he still answered, "I didn't always have someone to look after me so I sort of had to learn. It was either that or take out and I got out of the mood for pizza after a while." Placing down a plate in front of Bruce and another one for himself, Tim sat down in his own seat and shrugged off, "You saw the tapes so...you saw."

Eating some of the assorted fruit while he planned out the best way to bring up the subject, Bruce waited until Tim was somewhat comfortable to begin the hard part of the conversation. "Tim, there were some things we didn't talk about last night. Some things that didn't come up."

Tim's eyes darkened at the reminder and he mumbled, "'I'm guessing it's what I think it is."

"No more beating around the bush," Bruce promised. "It's about when your father found out about you being Robin."

The sad smile that made his way onto Tim's face was enough for Bruce to want to throw Jack in the pit to give him a piece of his mind, but it was Tim's answer that brought him back to the present. "Yeah that's what I thought. It was...it was rough."

Moving his chair so that he could sit beside Tim, Bruce took his small hands into his own once again before he stressed, "It wasn't rough, Tim. It was abuse. Plain and simple, it was abuse."

Tim watched as his his leg began to shake under the table and said, "You want to talk about what he said."

"What he insinuated, Tim-" Bruce started. "What he said about us-"

If they were going to be blunt and honest with each other it had to extend to everything and Tim felt a need to admit, "He thought you and I were sleeping together - having sex."

Cringing back at the words, Bruce felt the need to apologize. "Tim, if I've ever done something to make you feel like that, if you've ever felt uncomfortable around me I'm truly sorry."

Looking up at the sincere look on his face, Tim promised him, "Bruce, it wasn't about you. It was about me. You don't have to feel bad."

Confused and aware that there was even more for him to learn, Bruce asked, "What does that mean, Tim? What don't I know yet?"

Itching the side of his to try to distract himself from what he was about to admit, Tim took a deep breath and explained, "This happened before I was Robin so you didn't see it, but my dad wasn't really happy to find out that I am gay."

Unsure of what the best reaction would be, Bruce offered a quiet, "I didn't know."

"Yeah. I don't really bring it up because, well you saw my dad and it wasn't really a pretty picture."

Bruce leaned closer to him and let him rest his head on his shoulder and asked, "How did he find out?" He didn't think he wanted to know, but Tim needed to say it.

Tim bit his lip for a moment before answering, "It was a concerned teacher. In the fifth grade there was a boy I was pretty hungover, he and I would always talk about how much we loved some show, I can't remember the name now, but we were together a lot. We always sat together during lunch and we were beginning to learn about feelings and things like that and we talked about and decided it would be nice to kiss each other just before the bell rang to test out the waters and she caught us and told both of our parents."

A little struck at the image of a much younger Timothy acting flustered about a crush, Bruce let himself imagine what it must have looked like before realizing, "I'm assuming your father didn't react well."

Gripping onto Bruce's sleeve as he kept his gaze low, Tim added, "I wasn't allowed to go to school for a week until the bruises and swelling went down."

Bruce tightened his hold on Tim and declared, "You didn't deserve that, Tim. You did not deserve to be treated like that."

Not wanting to focus too much on the past, Tim broke out of Bruce's hold and assured him, "I know, Bruce, but he was my dad and I can't really change that."

Although he wasn't sure if he was stepping outside of his bounds, Bruce decided to do what felt the most natural. It was probably the fatherly instincts Alfred always talked about that lead him to say, "I know most of our relationship has been murky and strained to say the least, but I want you to know that I have always wanted you to be my son. Maybe it took a lot longer than it should have, but you're my son and there's nothing that's going to change that."

Tim took his eyes off of Bruce to admit, "I used to pretend that I was." At Bruce's worried look he stressed, "Before everything. When I used to live next door and didn't really know you and when I lived in the Manor and used to pretend I wouldn't have to go back to him."

Smiling internally at the image of him raising Timothy from a young age, Bruce assured him, "I want you to know that I would've loved to have you as son from the beginning."

Tim tried to be happy about what he had said, but there was still something that he couldn't get over. "I remember, Bruce, I don't know if you do, but I remember that you used to call me 'Dick' and..."

Even though Tim had already broken out of his hold, Bruce took his hands back into his own and uncharacteristically babbled. "Oh god Tim, I did see that in some of the tapes from the cave yesterday, but I didn't mean it. It was not intentional on my part and I know that doesn't mean much but I never meant to hurt you. After Dick left, I wasn't in a good place and I took it out on you and everyone around me, but I realize now just how much it hurt you Tim. But believe me, please, believe me when I say that you are my son, Tim. You are my son just like Dick is my son and there is nothing I would ever do to change it."

Neither of them said anything for a while, there was little left to say, but eventually Tim gave him an honest to god smile before getting up to remind Bruce, "You said something yesterday about me moving back to the Manor. I'm going to go get ready."

* * *

It became Bruce's job to load everything into his car but he didn't mind too much because he got to watch Tim rest with his seat reclined back. He looked at peace, something of a rarity, and Bruce knew he should have expected as much from Tim when he got to sit in an expensive car.

As they entered the gates of the estate, Bruce parked the car and lifted up the trunk while Tim grabbed some of the lighter bags and made his way in to see Alfred cleaning the foyer. As soon as he saw the teenager confusion and then delight pass over his face as he realized what the bags meant.

Dropping the bags at the foot of the stairs, Tim ran out to Alfred and threw his arms around him. Alfred threw a surprised look over his shoulder to Bruce, but he didn't need to understand everything to simply appreciated having his grandson back.

Once the bags and boxes were empty, Bruce sat down on the bed beside him and held him in the silence. Letting him rest his head on his chest once again, Bruce rubbed his arm and acknowledged, "I really don't know how I have spent so much time without you on by my side. I need you here just as much as anyone else, much more than anyone else, and I promise that things are going to be different from now on."


	15. Big (and little) Brothers

There is absolutely nothing Dick wouldn't sacrifice for his little brother and there is nothing that will keep Tim from wanting to show Dick just how much he cares about him.

 **Big (and little) Brothers**

* * *

The house bustled around him while Tim barricaded himself in his room trying to pretend this wasn't happening. He didn't want this to happen, none of them had done anything to deserve this, but Dick assured him there was nothing any of them could do about it. He tried to tell Tim that it wasn't that bad, that it would all work out in the end, but Tim knew he was just as scared as he was.

That didn't mean that Tim had to like it, and he didn't. He hated it. More than anything he had ever felt in his life, he hated this. He hated that he wasn't going to be seeing his brother for such a long time and he hated the idea of Dick seeing him cry when he was going away to do something so brave.

There was no reason for Dick to be the one to go. He had just finished medical school a few months ago and they should still be celebrating. He was supposed to be working at a hospital so that Tim wouldn't have to see any of the other doctors and he was supposed to be trying to teach Tim words that he didn't understand from his textbooks. This wasn't supposed to be when they told him goodbye.

Tim slowly got up from his bed to peek out to his window and saw Dick loading his bag into the back of his car. Bruce was as distressed as he was and he didn't know what to do other than hug his oldest son and hope that he came back home safe. It suddenly struck Tim that if he didn't go down right now the last thing he might have seen of his older brother was the back of his head, the very last thing he might see, and when Dick quickly looked up to where he knew Tim would be, Tim dropped the curtains in his hand.

Watching the trunk close as Dick turned back to Bruce, Tim sprinted out of his room and threw himself at his older brother yelling, "You have to come back. You have to, Dick. You have to."

He even let Dick see him cry because this might be the very last time he saw Dick and he needed to know just how much Tim loved him.

A little taken aback by the show, Dick let himself fall on the ground and properly lifted his little brother into a tight hug. Rubbing the nine year old's back until he stopped shivering, Dick promised him, "It'll be okay. Don't worry, Timmy. It'll be okay."

Dick's assurance wasn't good enough and Tim tried to change his mind for the hundredth time. "I'll do anything you want. I'll make your bed, I'll clean your car, I'll do anything as long as you don't go, Dick."

Looking over to their dad who was trying to hide just how much he cared while he looked over the engine of the car to make sure it was working perfectly, Dick ruffled Tim's hair before explaining, "This is what brothers are for, Tim. There are a lot of people who need my help, some of them are older than Dad and some are small than you, but they need my help and-"

"I don't care, Dick. You're my older brother and that means you have to stay with me, not them." That wasn't entirely true, Tim cared about them and he felt bad that they were getting hurt, but he cared about his older brother much, much more.

Sighing as he brought their foreheads together, Dick whispered, "Tim. There's nothing good about what it going to happen, absolutely nothing, but it's something I have to do. I don't want you to know all of the details, but it something I can do to make the world a little better."

"Okay."

Letting Tim down before he stepped up and ruffled his hair, Dick explained simply, "It's just something older brothers do for their little ones."

Tim accepted his explanation but he still wept into Bruce's shoulder as he watched the most important person in his world drive away from him. He had absolutely no idea how he was going to make it through this, but he knew it would be nothing compared to what Dick was doing.

* * *

Deciding that he could take over Dick's room while he was away, Tim went through his closet with something very particular in mind. It wasn't with his other clothes, but he did find it thrown over one of his chairs. It was a jacket Dick had gotten years ago, surprising it still wearable, and he couldn't remember from where but he liked it. Staring into his mirror, Tim saw just how ridiculous he looked in Dick's jacket. It went all the down to his knees and the sleeves made his arms unworkable so he knew it would take too long for him to grow into it. Nonetheless, Tim decided it was his jacket now and he went back to his room to begin drafting his letter to Dick.

He told him about everything that had changed since he was gone, absolutely nothing, but Ace had stayed up late that night waiting for him to come back. Alfred was still getting used to making less food for dinner, but it mostly meant Tim got to eat even more. He debated for a moment whether or not he should mention how he had decided to sleep with Bruce, he hadn't even told Bruce yet, but he didn't want Dick thinking that he had replaced him so soon.

The nights ended up being the easy part, Tim had his dad there to comfort him and an endless supply of things that smelled like his older brother, but in the morning he was crushed by just how lonely he felt.

He begged Dick to let him find someone who would bring him home, their dad had a lot of friends and there was no reason Dick couldn't come back as soon as he wanted, but Dick always told him, 'This is what older brothers do for their little ones.'

Sometimes Tim wished Dick didn't love him this much, that he didn't feel the need to go somewhere else doing who knows what to prove it to him. It always came up on birthdays, holidays, and milestones, but Tim knew he wouldn't be the same person if Dick wasn't there for him. He also knew Dick wouldn't have become the kind of person he was know if he didn't have a little brother to bounce his love off of. He had seen it when Dick was teaching him how to throw a baseball pitch and get the perfect spin on a football and he had seen it when Dick snuck him candy even when Alfred warned them against it. He had seen it when Dick fought off some of the people making fun of Tim in school and he had seen it when Bruce decided Tim needed to practice sleeping by himself because Dick was too old to share a bed with a kid but instead Dick always left his door open as an invitation for Tim to sneak in whenever he needed to. Everyone pretended that they didn't know about the practice, but it was hard to miss Tim's footsteps making their way down the hall as he tried to warn Dick he was coming in. So sometimes Tim wished Dick didn't love him as much, but he was never ungrateful for having the best older brother in the world.

* * *

At one point, Tim wasn't too sure when, but at one point they had stopped counting how many days Dick had been away and starting counting the days until he was coming back. It ended up being two years. Two full years since Tim had seen his older brother and he didn't know how much longer he would have been able to last.

There was only one day left. Tomorrow he would be making his way to the airport to meet Dick and he now realized this was going to be the hardest day as he couldn't bring himself to sit still. Tim didn't even know if he would fall asleep tonight.

Tim decided there was some more stuff he wanted to get done and the first was to make sure Dick wouldn't know he had taken up sleeping in his bed when he felt lonely. He rearranged some of the papers on his desk and threw around some of his clothes around so it would just as messy as Tim had found it. He had also urged Alfred to clean the jacket because he wanted Dick to see how much he had grown in the last few years.

Making his way downstairs to eat a meal before he began helping Alfred bake a cake, Tim was struck by just how silent it was. He didn't find anyone in the kitchen or the living, but their breakfast was already set out. Tim peeked around to see if they were anywhere else, but he found the front door open.

Cautiously walking out to see what was going on, Tim found his family standing and looking at nothing. He took his place beside Alfred and asked, "Why aren't we eating breakfast?"

Giving him a genuine smile, Alfred picked Tim up and let him wrap his arms around his neck for support. Tim still didn't know what they were waiting for, maybe it was practice for when Dick came tomorrow, but he grew tired very quickly. Nuzzling his head into the crook of Alfred's neck, Tim decided to wait until something important happened.

That something ended up being a car that was coming up their driveway and hearing the driver honk the horn Tim turned around. He couldn't see the driver or the passenger but soon the car came to a stop before them and the front door opened.

Ace was the first one to react and he leapt out from his place to circle the car, but Bruce told him to stay by the side as he went into the back to tackle get out a wheelchair. He brought it up to the passenger seat before unfolding it and opening the door and as soon as Tim saw Dick sitting there, he fought off Alfred's hold and went out to throw himself onto his older brother. He grasped onto his neck and repeated, "You're back, Dick you're back," until it made more sense to him.

Laughing as the eleven year old began crying with just how many emotions were running through him, Dick rocked Tim until he was finished crying and brought his face up to his. "Wow, you've grown so much while I was gone."

Bruce gave the two of them a moment before he asked Tim to step out of the seat. Completely taken aback as Bruce tried to separate the two of them, Tim sat up on Dick's lap defiantly. Turning back to Dick as he waited for him to carry him back into the Manor, Tim saw Dick deflate. Urging him to give him an explanation, Tim asked, "Is something wrong, Dick?"

Running a hand through Tim's hair, Dick told him, "I need you to get off my lap for a second, just for a quick moment, okay?"

Not feeling up to arguing with his older brother when he had just gotten back, Tim stepped out beside Ace and watched confused as Bruce helped Dick get into the wheelchair. Once Dick was settled, he motioned for Tim to come by him and pulled him back onto his lap. Seeing the questioning look on his face and knowing he wanted to ask him questions, Dick explained, "I hurt my knee, Timmy, so I'm going to have to use this for a while."

Looking down to Dick's knee, Tim asked him, "What happened?"

Turning up to Bruce to see if he could tell him, Dick got a silent nod and explained, "Someone shot me in the knee, Tim. That's why I had to come back early and it means I will have to stay off of my legs for a little while."

Tim dropped his gaze and looked at his hands while he considered what he had just heard. Knowing that he wanted him to be perfectly honest, Tim mumbled, "I feel weird because I'm happy you're back but that means I'm happy that you got hurt." Afraid of his answer, Tim looked up to Dick and asked, "Are you going to be able to walk again?"

Kissing the top of his head, Dick assured him, "This is only temporary. Bruce and I already talked to some doctors and they said I'll be perfectly fine in a few months. Don't worry about me little brother."

Leaning up so only Dick could hear, Tim cupped his hands and whispered, "That's what little brothers do for their big brothers."


	16. Model Behavior

Bruce knew raising Tim would be different, but he did not expect that pictures taken by the paparazzi would lead everyone to think Bruce had adopted a beautiful little girl. Dick uses the situation to his advantage while Bruce publicly announces that Tim is a boy and deal with the new offers (fluff)

 **Model Behavior**

* * *

The final step in the adoption proceedings were for Bruce to bring Tim to a social worker and have his living situation examined. They had already toured around the Manor to make sure Bruce was providing for him, but this was to make sure no parts of his story changed when Bruce wasn't in the room.

It went by far too slow for everyone's taste. Tim found most of the questions quite boring and gave his regular answers until the interviewer was finished. He was just glad that this was going to be the last one of these he would have to do. He was even ready for his afternoon nap by the time the interview was over and made his feelings known to Bruce as soon as he saw him.

Once he confirmed that there wasn't any need for any more paperwork or meetings, Bruce lifted Tim into his arms and escorted him out of the room. In a fashion Bruce still marveled, Tim fell asleep as soon as he had his head in Bruce's neck and it became Bruce's sole responsibility to carry their weight.

With one arm balancing Tim and the other opening the door, Bruce walked out of the office building and into a shower of flashing lights and noise. It had seemed that something that was meant to be a private meeting was now public and worth the attention of the paparazzi.

In his arms, Tim groaned at the noise and bright lights that had ruined his far too short nap. Bruce tried to reposition his scarf and hide him from the unwanted intrusion, but his immediate goal was to get him into the car and home as soon as possible.

Waiting in the lobby for the meeting to end Bruce had loaded the fact that the adoption had been an entirely private procedure, only a few people knew that there even was one, but all good things have to come to an end.

He drowned out the questions and cameras as he made his way to his car and lifted Tim into his car seat. He had gotten used to the attention years ago, he had to face it as soon as he was born, but seeing the way Tim groaned at the noise he knew it would be a while before Tim felt the same. To be fair, he didn't quite know if he wanted his son to, but he knew it would come with time. Looking back as people tried to get a shot of him as he turned away from Tim to get back to his seat, Bruce was grateful for the dark tinted windows that made trying to capture anything inside the car completely useless.

Driving home was a boring enough affair, something Bruce was even more grateful for after his experience with a press helicopter, and as soon as they were in the driveway of the Manor Bruce woke up the boy to inform him, "We're here bud."

Even though Tim woke up, his face gave away just how uninterested he was in moving a muscle; his naps were much more important. Bruce knew that if he wanted to get the boy of the car anytime soon he'd have carry him in himself.

He hoisted the boy up over the shoulder like a sack of potatoes to wake him up. As soon as he was in the air Tim forgot just how tired he was and began trying to get Bruce to do it again. It took a few leaps in the air before Tim was willing to be let down on the ground and as soon as his feet touched the floor he wanted to celebrate.

While they got some treats to eat they would have a much larger celebration next week when the whole family was together. But right now it was just the two of them and that was more than perfect.

Dick had once joked that Tim was unabatedly his little brother as soon as he had eaten some of Bruce's cooking and in light of how bad it had been they ordered take out from some of their favorite restaurants in Gotham. There was a full buffet before them in Bruce's room and with some of Tim's favorite movies playing in the background they began.

They sat in Bruce's bed, it was only when Alfred wasn't here that they were able to eat in their rooms, and talked about absolutely nothing of any importance and as it got darker Tim's will to stay awake receded as well.

By the end of the night Bruce moved the plates off the bed and pulled the blankets up enough for Tim to crawl in beside him and as always he passed out as soon as his head met Bruce's chest.

Slowly running his hand up and down the boy's back, Bruce tried to imagine what the next few years would be like. Bruce knew what he wanted, he wanted them to be perfect and happy together, but he also knew that nothing went as according to plan, especially in a city like Gotham. He allowed himself the luxury nonetheless as he watched as Tim dozed off without a care in the world.

Being as Tim was incredibly different than Dick, Bruce couldn't even begin to imagine the things he would have to suffer over the next few years.

* * *

Bruce woke up to his phone buzzing and found that Dick was calling to facetime him. He had been the past weekend with his friends and San Francisco and Bruce couldn't think of any need to call so early in the morning.

In any case he answered and asked the usual, "What is it, Dick? Is everything alright?"

Dick gave him a coy smile before saying, "I really don't know how to answer that question, but I just wanted to see your reaction when you heard the news." A little more attentive than before, Dick asked, "Is Tim with you?"

Looking down to see that boy still on his chest, Bruce told him, "He's still sleeping. I can give him a note when he wakes up."

Shaking his head, Dick said, "Wake him up. I promise it'll be worth it."

Although he knew better than to trust Dick when he had that look on his face, Bruce softly nudged Tim until he woke up. It took him a moment but when Tim was finished rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looked at the clock, he asked, "What is it?"

With Bruce still unsure about what the call was about, Dick answered, "I have a surprise for you Timbo."

Taking the phone into hand, Tim forgot just how sleepy he was and asked excited, "What is it?"

Not missing a beat, Dick promised, "I don't have it with me, but you'll see it when you turn the tv on and switch to the news."

Already formulating how he was going to chastise Dick when he saw what he had done, Bruce found the remote and did as instructed. Once he glanced at the screen it was enough for him to drop the remote.

The headline on national news read, "BRUCE WAYNE WITH NEW GIRL"

All of the hosts were discussing just who the girl was and some went as far to saw just how beautiful she was and where she could have possibly have come from. It looked the pictures taken yesterday had gotten everyone's interest on just who it was in Bruce Wayne's arms.

The only problem was that the pictures they were speculating off of had him carrying Tim out from his meeting yesterday and loading him into their car. Now everyone wanted to know just who it was that Bruce was holding onto so tightly and everyone was excited at the prospect that Bruce was adopting another kid, this time a little girl, and just how beautiful she looked.

Breaking through his trance, Dick called out, "When were you going to tell me I was getting a little sister. I mean, I don't even mind getting rid of Tim if it means I can keep her."

Understanding that this was the gift that he was talking about, Tim stuck his tongue out at his older brother before ending the call and turning to Bruce. The curiosity was clear on his face and Bruce explained, "They weren't able to get a proper picture of you but from what they saw they think you're a girl and very beautiful."

Tim groaned but didn't think it important enough to him getting out of bed and fell back against the sheets waiting for Bruce to get the same idea.

Knowing that he would have to be the one to clean up the mess, Bruce turned off the tv before tossing the remote off somewhere he didn't have to think about it and joined Tim in putting off the day as long as they could.

In any case, he had been right in thinking that raising Tim was going to be a completely different story than raising Dick.

* * *

Closing his phone as he laughed at the ridiculous look on his brother's face, Dick walked into the common area and devised a strategy. He had been planning on showing everyone his little brother once the adoption was finalized, but this situation offered much more interesting possibilities.

He stood in the kitchen and considered his options. Most of the team wasn't going to be here today, only Wally and Roy, but those two were always best ones to mess with.

They would be up in an hour and if Dick played his cards right he could string them along for hours, maybe even into tomorrow depending on how long it took Bruce to fix the mess.

Grabbing something to eat before crashing on the couch, Dick made sure some of the celebrity news channels were still covering before turning the television off to get to work. He pulled out his laptop and started building Wikipedia pages. Over the past few years he had become known as a pretty trustworthy editor for the website and he decided this was the best use of his reach. The pages would be up for days before anyone began to ask questions and that was more than enough time to do everything he needed.

Pretty soon the others were on the couch with him as they tried to find something to watch. Knowing that the hosts usually recapped the story at the turn of the hour, Dick waited until just before to scrolling into the coverage and pretending to be flustered at the discussion of Bruce's new daughter and changed to something else.

Just as he had expected, the other two picked up on the story and his weird behavior and Wally snatched the remote out of his hand before switching back to the story.

One of the hosts cut the other off and looked right at the camera. "Now if you're just joining us, yesterday paparazzi found Bruce Wayne outside of an adoption office with a young girl in his arms. From that point on, the internet has been a buzz with trying to find out the identity of the young girl and whether or not she is a new member of the Wayne family. For those unaware, four years ago Bruce went through a similar situation with the adoption of Richard Grayson and that means we could be looking at a possible new addition to the Wayne family."

Another 'reporter' went on, "That's not the only thing people have been talking about. While the photographers and internet were unable to indemnify her, one thing is obvious: she is very beautiful."

From the other side of the table a guest added, "Even if you compare her to Richard when he was first adopted, she is something else. In keeping with the late Thomas and Martha Wayne and now Bruce and Richard, the Wayne family is leagues ahead not only with money but also looks." If they hadn't been wrong about Tim's gender Dick might have been a little insulted.

Before switching to another, easily more important, story, the reporter finished with, "We can't say for sure what her age is, it appears to be around 6, but one thing is certain: the world can't wait to learn more about her."

Turning to their flushed teammate, Roy asked, "When were you going to tell us that you had a little sister?"

As he had practiced, Dick explained, "I was waiting for the adoption to be finished. There's a little thing called tempting fate."

Not really believing him, Wally asked, "So what's her story? Is she anything like you?"

Breathing deep and reminding himself of the story he had worked out over the last hour, Dick answered, "No nothing like me. Her name is Shelby Carter, well now Shelby Wayne, and she's 7."

Knowing it was important to any of their stories, Roy asked, "What about her parents? What happened to them?"

Looking down into his lap, Dick muttered, "That's one thing we have in common. Her parents were murdered a few months ago by the CIA. It's a complicated story."

Scooting in closer, Wally said, "We've got time."

Taking in a deep sigh, Dick recited, "Well, her dad, Walter, was an heir to the crown of a small country in Central Europe, Konary. He was next in line and Shelby's grandfather is sick so it looked like pretty soon her father would be taking over. So the people are rich and the country is small. Most of the people there had made their money through war crimes and illegal trade. Say someone steals a bunch of money from a bank, he or she would contact someone who knew the king, Shel's grandpa, say that he or she wanted in and pay an entrance fee. Everything from there on would be settled and outside of tax the government of Konary would never get in the middle of your business."

"So her parents were involved and that's why the CIA took them out?"

Shaking his head and internally smiling as they fell for the story, Dick explained, "The exact opposite. Shel's grandpa had been willing to let all this slide because it didn't make much of a difference to him. Whether or not the person was a mass murder, they were still paying tax and loading his pocket's, right? But her dad saw things differently. He wanted to show the world just how messed up it was. The only people who really knew about what was going on were intelligence agencies, CIA, MI6, Hamas, Beijing. Konary is one of the few thing they can agree on and they liked the status quo. Shel's mom, Charlotte, had been sent by the CIA to try and stop her dad eight years ago. That's how long they had been planning this. They didn't want to kill him, there was no one else in line for the crown so if he died then it would be a mess of everyone trying to get the throne, but try to change his mind. Shel's mom thought that if she could get Walt to fall in love with her and have a kid together then he would have to stop because he would be putting their kid at risk, but it didn't change anything. Instead Charlotte changed her mind on the whole thing and decided he was right and helped him out. Because they already had another heir to the throne, Shel, the CIA went ahead and killed them both and tried to take her in. Bruce had been watching the whole thing going down and was working with Walt on the low, but he wasn't able to stop them from dying and to make up for it he took Shelby in."

Turning to Wally to see what he thought about the story, Roy declared, "I don't believe you. That's bull."

Feigning not caring, Dick fell back against the couch and said, "It wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen."

Roy agreed with Wally and said, "It sounds like a bad spy movie."

Dick argued, "With the right direction it could make a great movie."

Crossing his arms and looking at Dick quizzically, Wally asked, "How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"Why would I want to lie to you? It would be stupid."

Roy huffed before saying, "That's why it's something you would do."

Dick challenged, "Look it up. I'm not lying about anything."

Roy pulled out his phone while Wally sped off to find his laptop. This was the important part. Dick had looked through the Wiki pages a few times, even coming up with a full backstory to the founding of the country and making a list of criminals thought to be citizens. The crowning glory was a video he had cut together from an obscure movie he was sure neither of the two had seen before.

As soon as Roy turned his phone horizontal to watch what was thought to be footage of a drug kingpin from Vietnam boarding his private jet with a briefcase when another European gentleman came off the plane a few minutes later to make a call he knew he had won. They both bought the story.

Wally turned away from a conspiracy theory thread Dick had created to ask, "So what's going to happen to her now?"

Sighing and looking down at the table as if he was contemplating whether or not to tell, Dick told them, "Well, the reason that we hadn't really been vocal about her adoption was because we didn't want the CIA to find out, but now it looks like we'll have to up the protection at the Manor."

"Do you think that they are going to try something?"

Thinning his lip, Dick admitted, "Probably. Her grandfather isn't doing too well, especially with the death of his son, so he might not last long and they want her there as soon as possible. The CIA wants to use her as a puppet so that they can use the infrastructure there to blackmail people of interest to them and hide the ones that they helped."

Throwing his phone to the side so he could give Dick his full attention, Roy asked, "Do you think she's a shell, someone the CIA is using to spy on you and B?"

Although he hadn't expected Roy to believe him enough to start coming up with his own theories, Dick played it off as something he and Bruce had talked over extensively. "It doesn't matter either way because we're planning on wiping her memory."

The looked at them even more shocked than they had been before Wally shouted out, "What?"

Looking at him stoically, Roy asked the more important question. "Why?"

Dick acted as if it made perfect sense. "The best possible scenario is that Konary crumbles by itself. That is what's probably going to happen when she doesn't take up the throne. Wiping her memory means that she can't changer her mind later and decide she actually does want to be queen of something like that."

He would have thought the bats would know just how bad of an idea it was, but Roy tried nonetheless. "What if she somehow remembers in twenty years and loses all faith in you two?"

Having practiced the expression that most looked like a groggy Bruce, Dick answered, "We have a contingency we aren't allowed to discuss with other people. No exception."

Wally threw his arms in the air in disbelief. This was not how he expected his rare day off would go but he knew he had to ask, "Can we meet her?"

Creasing his brow in consideration, Dick said, "I'm not sure…B is already going to be mad at me because I told you."

Not wanting to come off as too interested, Roy said, "If it really matters to Wally we could do a quick in and out. Introduce ourselves and tell her we're sorry about her parents and leave."

Dick countered, "You're only going to have to introduce yourself again after…Why not wait until then?"

Wally explained, "I want to meet a princess. She won't be a princess then."

Dick stood up and paced around the room fully aware of the fact their eyes were tracking his every move. He came to an abrupt halt and looked at the clock on the wall before sighing, "Fine. Bruce has a meeting with someone that starts in a couple of minutes so we can go over and I'll introduce you to her." This was actually the only truthful thing he had said all day.

Leaping up excited, Wally exclaimed, "Thank you so much, Dick. Don't worry we'll be on our best behavior."

Shaking his head and internally smirking, Dick explained, "It's more than that. I'm going to have to teach you how to properly greet the princess."

* * *

Although he hadn't expected his plan to go by as perfectly as it had, Dick was incredibly grateful it had. Once he was sure Bruce would be in his office, he lead the two to his room and told them, "I'll find Shel, but you have to wait here. Remember what we practiced "

Not seeing any reason to argue, the two went into the correct position and began waiting.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Dick ran out to Tim's room and allowed himself in. His little brother was reading a book on his bed and looked up uninterested in whatever Dick had to say, probably still upset about what had happened a few hours ago.

"Look, Timbo-"

Cutting him off, Tim proudly announced, "I don't care, Dick." The four year old didn't want to hear anything he had to say.

Sitting beside his little brother and taking his hands, Dick explained, "I know I was mean to you this morning, but I felt really bad about it. To make it up to you I actually did get you a present."

Deciding that the possibility of a present was more important than what happened to Little Red Riding Hood, Tim followed Dick back to his room as he imagined what it could be. It had to be big if Dick couldn't carry it and everyone knew big presents were the best.

On the other side of the wall Wally and Roy realized they didn't know how to make conversation with royalty. Everything from television and movies had something to do with politics, but this was a seven year old and if she needed everyone who met her to go through the ritual Dick had taught them then she would be pretty regal.

They stiffened up at the sound of the door opening and immediately dropped down to a kneel before saying, "It's an honor to meet you, Princess."

Dick had told them not to look up until the princess said something, but Wally and Roy had not expected it to be a defeated little voice. "Is this my present, Dick?"

Before daring to look up, Roy and Wally looked to each other to share their confusion. Roy decided he could handle an angry seven year old princess and raised his head.

The first thing he noticed was that the princess was short for a seven year old. The second was that the princess was in fact a prince.

He squinted his eyes in confusion and turned to Dick for some answers. The twelve year old was unable to hold in his laughter and he fell on his chair unbelieving that everything had worked.

Knowing that he had been lied to, Roy immediately got up from the embracing position and explained to Tim, "This idiot told us you were a princess and that we needed to do that little thing to meet you."

It didn't look like their day was going to be any less confusing because as soon as Roy gave him the confusing explanation Tim's eyes began to water. He tried to hold them back, but it was all to no avail and he drew everyone's attention onto himself.

Dick immediately stopped laughing to figure out what was wrong with his little brother but Wally beat him to it and had Tim on his lap on Dick's bed as soon as he heard the sobs.

Trying to comfort him, Wally used a baby voice he did not know he had and asked, "What's wrong kiddo? We're sorry you're brother lived up to his name, but we didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Wiping his tears away, Tim muttered just loud enough for them to hear, "Everyone thinks I'm a girl. On the tv and now…everyone thinks I look like a girl."

Roy got up beside him and asked, "How about we start over? My name is Roy and this is Wally." Pointing to Dick, he added, "That's a dick. What's your name?"

Happy that someone cared, Tim answered, "My name is Tim. It's Timothy, but I like Tim."

Wally laughed and said, "My name is Wallace, but I like Wally better."

The small smile that Tim gave them was enough to warm both of their hearts and they hated Dick a little more for making him upset.

Before he could move onto these new friendships, Tim had to pull them closer and ask, "Were you being mean to me?"

As quick as ever, Wally assured him, "Not at all, Timmy. It was actually your brother but we were really excited to meet Dick's new sibling and he told us you were a girl."

Tim nodded his understanding but was hurt to find out his big brother had betrayed him once again.

Seeing the somewhat defeated look on the kid's face, Roy turned to Dick and asked, "How about you get us some juice?"

Ignoring him, Dick tried to get to his little brother but he was stopped immediately. Tim agreed with the only people, beside his new dad, who seemed to care about his feelings and agreed, "I want juice, Dick. Juice."

Although he was unsure about how he ended up failing with such a perfect plan, the cherry was when Wally didn't even bother to look at him when he said, "I'll just take some water."

Dick sighed and went down to the kitchen before returning upstairs to find his room empty. Following the voices, he found them in Tim's bed reading the book Tim had abandoned a few minutes ago. Setting the drinks out beside them, Dick pulled out Tim's desk chair and waited until they were ready to talk to him again.

* * *

There were many press conferences Bruce expected to have, but this was not one of them. All through the day he had calls from news agencies wanting an exclusive with the newest member of the Wayne family and this was the best way to put any further discussions to an end

Not wanting to pick one of the channels over the others, and not trusting any to be sensitive enough for his son, Bruce announced that he would be holding a press conference at Wayne Tower and all press were welcome.

Tim was the only one looking forward to the press, he wanted to set the record straight now and forever.

Behind the stage and peeking through the door, Tim suddenly began to feel nervous with just how many people were there but Bruce assured him, "If you begin to feel anxious and want to leave just tell me and we can put it to an end."

Unsure of whether or not he should ask his question, Tim decided that Bruce didn't like it when he hid things from him so knowing would be better and asked, "Are they going to ask about…them."

It had taken months to get Tim to forget about his parents, but it made sense that the anxiety of the moment would remind him of them. Not wanting to lie to his son, Bruce admitted, "I haven't said anything yet, but I'll have someone go out into the crowd and tell them not to ask."

Sighing in relief, Tim stood by the door and waited for the time to come. It wouldn't be a long wait, but as more time went on he began to feel even more worried. He had seen Bruce do many press conferences and interviews and he was always perfect and Tim didn't want to ruin this for him. At least he couldn't be as bad as Dick when he accidentally said a bad word Tim wasn't allowed to repeat.

Once the waiting was up, Bruce came back and assured Tim, "You're going to do fine, kiddo."

Taking his dad's hand into his own, Tim began shaking as a release for the pent up energy and lost his breath when the door opened to a rain of camera flashes. Bruce had taken the side closest to the reporters so that Tim would have some guard against the reporter and once they reached the table he helped him up not to his seat before taking his own.

As soon as the two were seated, the reporters stood up and began shouting all of their questions as the same time. Tim sat back in his chair worried, about what he wasn't sure, and squinted as the flashing only got more intense once the press got a clear view of him.

Soon enough Bruce put a hand in the air the room went silent. He brought the mic in front of him closer and put the other hand on Tim's knee as a show of his support, and began with an introduction. "As many of you already know, I have adopted another child. His name used to be Timothy Drake, now Timothy Wayne, and he's four years old."

There was a moment of silence after the last sentence and Tim took it as his cue to reach for his own mic and introduce himself. When his arms proved too small to reach it, he looked to Bruce who helped position the mic and Tim leaned in going over what he had practiced a thousand times in the next room. Giving them the smile Roy had taught him, Tim began, "Hello, I'm Tim and I'm a boy."

Incredibly proud of himself, Tim sat back and smiled to Bruce to show that they could go back now because their work was done.

Bruce smiled at him before turning back to the crowd and explained, "I know that everyone thought that he was a girl from a few pictures, but he is a boy and he wants to make sure you all know that. Now, I'm assuming some of you have questions?"

Once again there was a roar in the room as everyone stood up to ask questions and Bruce pointed to one of the friendlier reporters. All of a sudden the room went quiet and she asked, "What spurred on the decision to adopt another child?"

Bruce easily answered, "I have known Tim since he was a child and decided it was in his best interest to join our family."

Not waiting for a cue, Cameron Lowell, a reporter from one of the gossip magazines, asked, "What about his parents?"

Tim immediately curled away and look to Bruce. "You said we wouldn't have to talk about them."

Smiling down his apology, Bruce said, "Please read the memo one of my employees gave you." and moved onto another question.

"Is there any reason Richard isn't here?"

Before Bruce could give an answer, Tim took a hold of his own mic and explained, "Dick was really mean today so he's not allowed."

Bruce added formally, "He made a prank out of the misrepresentation of Tim's sex and because of that he's grounded."

On that same topic, another question was directed to Tim. "How have to found your time in Mr. Wayne's custody?"

Confused by the question, Tim turned to Bruce who cleared up, "He wants to know if you like living with me."

That was the easiest question im had ever had to answer. "He's the best daddy."

On that note, the same reporter asked again, "Tim, what happened to your parents?"

Growing frustrated by the disregard of common decency, Bruce turned to the security and asked, "Could you please escort Ms. Lowell outside?" That was enough for everyone to know not to approach that subject for many years.

The remaining questions were simple enough. Is Timothy going to be starting school soon? Yes he'll be going into the pre-k class of Gotham Academy in the fall. How long has Tim been in your custody? I have been taking care of him for the last year but the adoption was only finalized yesterday. Are there going going to be more public appearances for Timothy? Not in a setting like this, but I won't keep him in the Manor. He's going to have as normal of a life as possible. How has Richard adapted to his role as an older brother? Overall he's an excellent brother, he is protective of Tim and goes out of his way to make him happy, but every now and then he likes to pull pranks and jokes that don't work.

Once everything was settled, Bruce and Tim said their farewells and left the room. Waiting for them in the adjoining room, Dick was the first one to congratulate Tim on a job well done and once again apologized for his joke.

* * *

Bruce made his way to his floor of Wayne Tower and stopped at his secretary's desk to check his schedule for the day. Scanning the page he found some peculiar names, but nothing too out of the ordinary.

He sat down in his chair and got caught up on some of the things he had missed yesterday. It wasn't long before his first meeting came up and he stood up to greet the owner of a fashion line. Bruce had only met Brian Humphrey a handful of times, but they had been pleasant enough.

"Mr. Humphrey, it's nice to meet you."

Giving him a firm handshake, Humphrey sat down before returning the greeting. "Please, call me Brian if I can call you 'Bruce.'" At the smile and nod that Bruce threw his way, Brian continued, "I'm grateful that you allowed me the opportunity to meet with you; I know it's hard to get a meeting the day before."

Not wanting to admit that he had no say in granting him the meeting, Bruce said diplomatically, "It's no problem. My family has been customers of your products for years and while we might not be close I do have respect for you and your business, Brian."

Clearing his throat, Brian said, "I felt the same way and that is why I am approaching you with this offer. I watched the news yesterday and I saw Timothy."

Bruce groaned and admitted, "Yes, that is an ordeal I never saw myself having to go through and I am glad it is over."

Smiling at the absurdity of the moment, Brian confessed, "The press conference caught my eye and I will be blunt. I would like to make Timothy a model for the upcoming winter line."

Letting the businessman facade fall, Bruce repeated, "A model?"

Brian explained evenly, "While the reporting on his gender might have wrong, he is very handsome."

"He's also only four." Bruce didn't really know what to make of the offer, but it would take more than his appearance to convince him.

"That's why I'm approaching you and not him. Any and all decisions would be up to you and absolutely nothing without your blessing." This was a massive opportunity for him and he wasn't going to push any of the boundaries he needed.

Bruce knew that he would let Tim make the final decision but he also didn't want Brian to get the wrong impression about what he was asking for. "Tim's incredibly shy and while he does have a fondness for cameras it's not as strong when he's the focus."

Trying to quell any worries Bruce had, Brian promised him, "We don't want him to act any differently. People love him the way he is and there is nothing I want to change about that."

Sighing as he considered the offer, Bruce admitted, "I can't say it's a decision that will come easily to me, I have a hard time mixing publicity with my children, but if he is interested then I will get back to you."

Not wanting to press too much, Brian guaranteed, "Don't worry too much about which way the decision goes, Bruce, it was a long shot but an opportunity I didn't want to let slip away."

Standing up to walk him to the elevator, Bruce said, "Having been in business for as many years as I have, I completely understand."

Looking over the list of appointments he had that day, he could see that he was going to be going through the exact same conversation a few more times. There were six more designers who wanted to hire Tim as a model for their children's line. There were another two who wanted to hire both Dick and Tim as a duo.

Bruce had wanted to get some real work done today, to catch up everything that he had missed in the mess yesterday, but now all he could think was what would have happen if Tim actually wanted to go through with the idea. He had never considered that his children were going to be in the public eye so early on and in a way that depended entirely on the way they looked.

Deciding to call it a day, Bruce packed up his things and went to his car. Even though he knew it was only going make him feel worse, Bruce opened his phone and looked through the most recent news on gossip magazines. As he had expected it was all news about Tim and his charming personality. He was four, he didn't have a personality; his had moments when he was happy and angry and shy and excited.

Tossing his phone on the passenger seat, Bruce started the car and pulled out of his personal garage to get home as fast as he could.

Looking around the Manor, he found Dick explaining the merits of the Star Wars movies in the theater room to an attentive Tim and he sat beside them as he waited for the movie to end. Once it was over, he stopped them from starting another one and drew both of attentions on himself. Even when he had a confused look on his face, Bruce could see why any of them would want to make him the face of their company.

He reached out and pulled Tim onto his lap to explain, "I had a lot of meetings today and most of them were about you."

Tim straightened up excited and asked, "Do they all know I'm not a girl now?"

Giving him a small smile, Bruce assured him, "They all know you're a boy, Tim, don't worry about that. The meetings weren't about that."

"Then what?"

Unsure of how to explain these things, Bruce decided to be blunt and said, "I have some friends who make clothes and they would like you to model them."

Usually when Tim didn't know what something meant he would read the expressions on his family's face but this time he didn't know how to read their looks. "What does that mean?"

Bruce explained simply, "They want to take pictures of you in their clothes and print the pictures out and put them on tv and things like that."

Unsure of what to do, Tim turned to Dick as always. "What do you think?"

Although he wanted to be impulsive and say something about getting a chance to meet models, Dick knew it was an important decision for his little brother and offered, "Maybe you can try it out and make a decision after that?"

Tim considered the advice for a moment before turning to Bruce and asking, "Daddy, what do you think? Should I do it?"

Bruce sighed, he didn't want to be in the way of Tim making a decision, but he also didn't want to fail his role as a parent. Frowning slightly, Bruce took his cheek into his hand and promised, "Whatever choice you make I'll support it and if you do decide to go with it I'll make sure everything goes the way you want it to. Anything you want, Tim. Just say the word."

Sighing as his family failed to be much help, Tim looked into his lap and imagined what to do and decided, "I'd like to try, Daddy, it'll be fun."

Leaning in to kiss the top of his head, Bruce said, "We can look through some catalogues and pick out whichever designer you like best."

Tim nodded but turned to Dick to ask, "Do you want to do this too?"

Knowing that sometimes even the best of brothers needed their space and that Tim might like having his own thing, Dick asked, "Are you sure, Timbo? If you want to do this by yourself I don't mind."

To Tim it was as simple as, "Everything is more fun if we do it together."

It was easy for Dick to see why everyone had fallen in love with his little brother so easily, it had only taken Dick one glance, but the reminder was nice. He smiled at Tim and told him, "Sure, I'd love to."

Turning back to Bruce a little more excited, Tim asked, "Can we look at the pictures now, Daddy? I really want to see."

Not having any fashion catalogues on hand, Bruce went online to the websites of the designers

And watched the two decide which fit was best for them. As he had expected, they went with the designer he had worn as a child and they still had in his closet. He found the number in his phone and sent the two off to bed before making a call.

Sitting down on the couch, Bruce waited to hear the phone pick up on the other line and greeted, "Brian, it's Bruce. Look, I know it's late-"

Quick to interrupt, Brian reasoned, "I can only imagine that if this was bad news you would have waited until morning to call me during office hours. Don't worry about it."

Smiling as his job just got a little bit easier, Bruce said, "Yes, I talked to Tim about it and he wants to do a trial run. He's still a little shy about the idea, but he's willing to give it a try."

Bruce could hear Brian's smile through the phone as he said, "That's all I was asking for, Bruce. I'll contact you tomorrow about the details."

"There is one other thing. Tim wants to do the modeling with his brother." He didn't think it would be a deal breaker, but one would never be too sure.

"Richard?"

"Yes. They would like to do this together and I know your offer was only for Tim, but I would appreciate it if you could-"

"Of course, Bruce. I would love to have both of the Wayne boys. Now if you would like to get into modeling..."

Bruce laughed at the idea and said, "No I think I'm going to let my kids fly solo on this one. But I am going to be there for the shoots and oversee any of the finer details."

"I wouldn't expect any less, Bruce. Good night."

"Good night, Brian. I'll see you tomorrow."


	17. Tears (Dick and Tim)

Nothing hurts Dick more than seeing Tim cry

 **Tears**

* * *

Dick stood beside the front door waiting for Tim to come downstairs. It wasn't like Tim to be late, but if he didn't get here soon they would be late for school. Pulling out his phone, Dick distracted himself for five minutes before he went up to his little brother's room to investigate just what was taking him so long.

Before he could walk through the door, Dick saw Tim lying flat on his bed with his head stuffed into a pillow. Bruce was sitting beside him and Tim was fully dressed for school with his packed bag on the floor beside the bed, but for whatever reason neither of them were moving. Tim was hiding his face and shaking softly while Bruce rubbed his back, probably trying to comfort him for some reason.

Dick couldn't hear what Bruce was saying to Tim and Tim's voice was undecipherable with the pillow covering his mouth, but after a while Bruce seemed to say the right words as Tim threw himself into his arms. Bruce kept rubbing circles into Tim's back as he lifted him up and grabbed his bag with his other hand and began walking out. Before the two could see Dick watching in on the moment, he ran downstairs as quietly as he could and retook his position at the front of the door with his phone in his hand pretending to have been waiting for them the whole time. From his position, he could just barely see Bruce drop Tim on the floor, help him put on his backpack, and give him one last ruffle of his hair before the two made their way downstairs and greeted him.

As soon as Tim was on the ground, he ran over to Dick and apologized, "I'm sorry it took so long, Dick. I couldn't find my shoes and Dad was helping me."

He lied so easily that it confused Dick for a moment. He considered the possibility that he might have misread what he saw in the room, but when he saw the tear streaks on his cheeks and a stiffness in Bruce's stance he knew something must be wrong and he wasn't meant to know.

Smiling down at him, Dick pretended to believe the obvious lie and talked about something much lighter the ride to school. He thought it over in the car and realized that it was probably something to do with school that was bothering Tim. The concerned look Bruce kept on giving him through the rear view mirror and the way Tim's answers came out much more strained the closer they got only further proved the point.

When they finally pulled up to the gates, Dick decided to walk Tim to his class and watch out to see if anyone was bothering him. He acted as if it was nothing out of the ordinary as they went in the direction of the elementary school building.

When Tim looked at him confused and tried to dismiss him, Dick assured him, "I don't mind walking you over. It's no big deal."

To his surprise, Tim tried to fight him on it and keep him from walking through the main door. It was almost comical to see Tim try and hold Dick back, but Dick focused on his words instead. "I'm not a little kid, Dick. I can walk by myself."

Dick frowned at his tone of voice and promised, "I know you can, Babybird. It's just that-"

Tim squinted up his face and tried to put some distance between them. Holding onto his backpack's straps for support, he spat out, "Don't call me that, Dick. It makes me sound like a baby."

That was all Dick needed before he caught up to Tim, put his hands on his shoulders, and asked, "Is that what someone told you, that you're a baby?"

Not wanting to admit it, Tim tried to look anywhere other than his brother and avoid the question as long as he could. Maybe if he didn't say anything too much time might pass by and Dick would have to go back to his building. The reaction was all the answer Dick needed before he asked, "Who told you that, Timmy? I want their names."

Looking ashamed, Tim shook his head and tried to break out of Dick's hold. When he finally succeeded, he ran the rest of the way to his class and made sure to avoid his brother for the rest of the day.

It was only when they were dismissed for the day that Dick saw Tim try to hide himself away from the rest of the crowd as he made his way over to where Dick was waiting. Dick was ready to not bring up the subject until they got home, but that was until he noticed a group of kids walk up to Tim and tell him something before going on to find their respective families. He wouldn't have thought something of it if he hadn't seen the way Tim flinched away from the kids and how he practically ran the rest of the way until he reached Dick.

Dick embraced him the way he had seen Bruce do in the morning. He held Tim as he began crying into his jacket and promised , "Don't worry about it baby brother. I'll deal with them tomorrow and make sure they don't bother you anymore."

Tim tried to argue, "I can deal with it myself, Dick. I'm not a baby," but most of it got muffled by the tight hold Dick had on him and Tim didn't want to break away just yet.

Dick assured him, "That might be true, Timmy, but you are my little brother."

There wasn't much Tim could say to that, and he pulled away just far enough to admit, "I just… I don't know why they're being mean to me."

Not liking the way that people were beginning to stare at them and knowing it would only mean Tim would have to deal with more harsh words the longer they stayed, Dick took Tim's hand into his own and lead him the way to where Bruce was waiting for him. Before they got close enough for anyone to overhear, Dick whispered, "You're my little brother, Timmy. That means a lot of things, but the most important is that no one can make you cry and think I won't get angry. No one gets to make you cry, okay?"

Tim blushed slightly at the declaration, but he whispered a soft, "Okay," before giving Dick a quick hug and opening the door to the car.

Once he knew Tim was distracted trying to lock himself in his seat, Dick leaned over to Bruce and told him, "I'll talk to them tomorrow. No one gets to make my little brother cry."


	18. A Stolen Kiss (Kon and Tim)

It was a simple kiss, but an important one

 **A Stolen Kiss**

* * *

Looking at them crowd around the newest addition to the team, Kon tried to figure out why this one was so special. He didn't look intimidating, leaner than Nightwing had been at that age, but everyone crowded around him excited that he was here. Dick stood behind him as if it was necessary to remind everyone that Tim was his responsibility and anything that happened to his little brother would get back to him. The point was clear, don't mess with Robin.

When the new Robin noticed that Kon was standing to the side alone, he gave him a small wave and smile. Caught off guard, Kon gave him what he thought was a smile before turning back to his own room to listen in from there.

Seeing Kon walk away from the rest of the crowd, Tim turned to Dick confused. Dick had seen Kon's attempt for a smile and knew it was only a matter of time before he felt comfortable around Tim. He assured his little brother, "He'll warm up to you at some point, Babybird, just give him some time."

Their first official meeting was the next morning at breakfast. Kon had assumed that Tim was only at Mount Justice for the evening and had spent the night either with his brother in Bludhaven or back at Gotham so it caught him off guard when he stumbled down to the kitchen. He gave the team a tired welcome before taking an empty sleep. Dick made some joke about how his brother wasn't a morning person and Tim pretended to be upset but he stopped caring as soon he had some food in front of him. Kon was much closer to Tim than he had been last night and he needed to stop reminding himself of that, but it gave him another opportunity to try and figure out why Tim felt different than everyone else. He must have been staring because he caught Dick's eye and when Tim looked over to figure out what his brother was smiling at he saw Kon trying to pretend he hadn't been looking at him. Once again, Kon excused himself and ignored the snickering from around the table to distract himself with some static on the tv in his room. Unsure of why everyone was snickering, Tim looked around for some answers but the only thing he got was something from Dick about understanding more when he's older.

For their first mission together, Kon had recon duty unless something came up needing his attention. Dick seemed to think that it would be better if some of the newer members got some independent experience before they were called into something more deadly so most of the veteran members were watching to make sure that they were all fully adept. The actual mission wasn't that dangerous and against his better judgement Kon paid closer attention to what Tim was doing. Even though he was the same age as Dick had been when he joined the team, Tim seemed more mature and less inclined to act irrationally in the field. He was a good fighter, Kon could definitely see where he was more like Nightwing and where he was more like Batman, but he played it cleaner than most of the people they were fighting against. There was a moment dirty attack from one of Luthor's goons came too close for comfort and Kon had just enough respect for Tim's privacy to not use his x-ray vision to examine the wound. Kon felt Nighting flinch from his position on one of the rafters and knew that Robin would be getting a lecture later. Nonetheless, Kon made sure to pay extra close attention to Tim's left foot, but to his surprise there was no decrease in his performance. The only change he could see was that Robin shifted most of his weight on his other foot and adjusted his techniques accordingly.

When they were finally back in the mountain and Dick was off somewhere briefing Batman, Kon decided to check in on Tim. Kon hadn't seen him tell anyone about his injury and if Tim questioned him about it he could just say he wanted to fully introduce himself to the newest member of their team.

He stared at his door for a few minutes as he tried to work over the most polite way to ask Tim how he was feeling before knocking. There was some ruffling around before the door finally opened and he saw Tim in his civvies and sunglasses. Even though he knew he wasn't supposed to, Kon peak through the glasses and saw the same blue eyes Dick had staring back at him.

When Kon didn't say anything, Tim smiled and turned to the side and gave him room to walk in. He threw a sharp glare at Dick from where he was probably watching in on them from a camera before closing the door behind him and giving Kon his full attention.

Kon sat down on his office chair and noticed the bandages on the ground. Of course, Tim had been more than capable of fixing himself up without Kon's help and Kon was only making a fool of himself by intruding.

Tim didn't seem to feel the same as he sat down on his bed and smiled. Maybe a little too politely, he asked, "Can I help you with something?"

He quickly sputtered out, "I saw that you got hurt during the mission and didn't tell anyone about it."

A soft blush rose to Tim's cheeks as he laughed and assured him, "It's not that big of a deal, not even a flesh wound."

Kon believed him, but still noted, "You didn't tell anyone about it."

"I know, I just didn't want anyone to over react. They have a tendency to make a big deal about the smallest things, especially my brother."

Feeling stupid for bothering him, Kon sunk back in the chair and muttered, "Oh. Okay. That's good." Not seeing anything else he could do, Kon quickly got up to his feet and got ready to go out and kill himself with his pillow.

Tim couldn't help but think Kon look cute when he was flustered and put himself between Kon and the door to ask, "Is that why to came by? To check up on me?"

Kon didn't dare think what color his face must have been as he moved Tim and opened the door, but Tim's hand on his arm stopped him before he could get too far.

Before he could think too much about what he was doing, Tim stood on his toes, laid a kiss on his cheek, and muttered a soft, "Thanks for caring so much."

The door closed between the two of them and both fell on their respective beds thinking over what had happened. Tim debated if it was possible to die from embarrassment, but he assured himself that Dick would have died multiple times over if it was true. Kon could still feel where Tim's lips had rushed up beside his cheek and he wondered if it was possible for skin to feel as hot as it did when he imagined it happening again.


	19. Cake

Tim thought it was the perfect crime with the perfect reward, but as always Bruce was one step ahead

 **Cake**

* * *

Moving through the house, Bruce mentally went through the checklist of chores Alfred had given him. He had no idea how the butler managed to get so much done at his age, but Bruce was looking forward to the day when his boys were old enough for him to delegate some of the chores to them. It would be a fitting punishment for whatever mistakes they made in the future.

The last thing Bruce needed to do for the night was clean up the dishes from dinner before heading off to tuck the boys in bed and quickly rinsed off the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Before he turned off the lights, Bruce caught sight of the cake Alfred had left for them. Most of what was supposed to last them a week was already gone, the only thing left was a sorry mess of cake that might have been meant to resemble a slice, and the detective could make out where small hands had dug into it without the use of utensils. He could also see were the hands tried to gather the remains of the cake into the slice in hopes of no one noticing. Looking down at the counter, he could also make out small handprints smeared with chocolate as they tried to leave the scene of the crime before anyone caught him.

Cleaning up the mess, Bruce grabbed a glass of water before going up to Tim's room hoping to catch his son brown handed. The handprints were far too small to belong to Dick and Bruce knew Dick would have at least used a knife and fork.

Bruce knocked on the door and waited for a grunt before turning the handle and peeking in. Tim was in his bed turned to face away from the door with the lights turned off. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he had caught the culprit; Tim always begged to stay up as late as possible and he never went to bed before 8. Stepping in the room, Bruce switched the lights on and sat down beside the boy's back.

He could see Tim tense up as he pretended to sleep and hoped that Bruce would just leave him to his shame. Tim had probably been hoping to get away with the it, imagining that no one would be able to tell the difference between the cake and the remnants he felt on the counter. Never being the person to ignore a misdeed when he saw one, Bruce shook Tim until he turned over and pretended to wake up.

The five year old must not have known that his face was covered in chocolate because he made no attempt to hide the evidence. The pillow underneath him was covered in the chocolate that had rubbed off of his cheek and Bruce found it far more humorous than anything that his son was so bad at hiding evidence.

Smiling down at him as if nothing was wrong, Bruce asked, "How are you feeling, sport?"

Tim admitted, "Not too good, Dad. I feel a little sick." Hopefully his father would feel bad for him and leave him to his misery. Considering his amazing luck today, finding an abandoned cake and getting away with eating most of it, he could convince Bruce to leave them alone.

Creasing him lip, Bruce explained, "That's what happens when you eat too much cake."

Stiffening up, Tim tried to play dumb and asked, "Cake? We have some cake?"

Helping him sit up so he could drink some water and get the strong taste of chocolate out of his mouth, Bruce reminded him, "Yes, the cake you made with Alfred before he left. The chocolate cake that was sitting on the counter. Do you remember it?"

Tim chugged down the water before shaking his head. "You're probably imagining things, Dad. There was never a cake."

"Really?" Bringing a hand to Tim's cheeks and running his thumb through some of the cake's remains, Bruce asked, "Then where did this come from?"

Tim looked at Bruce's hand in shock before rubbing his own on his face and trying to clean it up as much as he could. He had thought that he had cleaned off all the evidence when he washed his hands, but he had forgotten about his face in his panic.

Hanging down his head in shame, Tim waited to hear whatever punishment Bruce had for him. At the very least, he was in trouble for the very poor attempt at a cover up. To his surprise, his dad lifted him up and carried him out to the bathroom.

Glancing at his reflection, Tim lamented on just how ridiculous he looked before turning his attention to where Bruce was lathering his hands in soap. Tim appreciated that Bruce was taking the control on this because he didn't feel up to moving around on his own. His stomach was as full as it had ever been.

When he was returned to his bed fully cleaned up, Tim was ready to go to sleep. That was the only thing he could imagine making him feel better, but he could tell that Bruce had more to say to him. They were about to enter the punishment period of this evening.

Bruce could tell Tim was in pain, a common occurrence when one eats a third of his or her body weight in cake, but there was a lesson in all of this. Running his hand through Tim's hair as he waited for the boy to settle in, Bruce explained, "I know chocolate tastes good, but too much of anything can be a bad thing."

"I'm sorry, but it looked really good." Tim had acted on instinct he didn't even know he had.

"I know, sport, but now you feel a little sick, right?"

Tim sighed, "Yeah. My tummy hurts." It had never felt like this before,

"That's because you had too much cake."

"Okay, I made a mistake." Looking up at Bruce a little afraid of his answer, Tim asked, "Am I grounded?"

Turning around in deep thought, Bruce decided, "You'll bake another cake tomorrow, but this time you won't get eat it."

"That doesn't sound too bad." His punishment usually involved menial labor and cleaning around the house or helping garden.

Bruce assured him, "You'll feel differently in the morning."

Tim didn't trust his father, this was far more likely to be a ploy to get him to stop eating cake, but he didn't question in and turned over in his bed to finally get some sleep. He paid no attention to Bruce as he patted on his back as imagined just what type of cake he could make. This time they could add even more chocolate and mix in with whatever he could find: vanilla, marshmallows, M&Ms, skittles, apple juice, soda, cookies, ice cream, syrup, and anything else he could find in the kitchen. This was going to be the best cake Bruce and Dick would ever eat.


	20. One in the Morning (Tim and Kon)

It was probably the best thing to find at one in the morning

 **One in the Morning**

* * *

Nights in Smallville were always quiet. There was the occasional party were half the town's population of young adults congregated in an empty farm lot, but this was not one of those nights.

Tonight was Clark's birthday and he had been kind enough to invite Kon as well as Ma and Pa Kent to spend the weekend in Metropolis, but Kon knew how to read between the lines. Tim had been teaching him how to read the small hints that gave away what a person was thinking, and they were most useful around Clark. He didn't expect Kon to be reading into him and that made it easier for the teenager to decipher what the Kryptonian actually wanted. In that spirit, Kon lied about having work to do and pretended not to notice how relieved Clark sounded when Ma called him to give the 'bad news'.

The couple had left earlier that morning, reminding Kon to call them if he needed them but they all knew he was never going to do that. It was a mixture of pride and not wanting his grandparents to think less of him that had him waving them goodbye as they drove off to the airport.

When he finished all of his chores for the weekend and had nothing else to occupy his time, Kon laid on the roof of the barn and stared up at the sky. He compared the sight to the dark sky he had seen in the few times Tim was able to sneak him into Gotham. Although it wasn't the most impressive sight, it was leagues ahead of the emptiness in the Gotham night. If he thought about it hard enough, he assumed the city made up for it.

Kon was entertained by the stars for the entirety of two minutes before he got bored and pulled out his phone. He had been following some of the team's advice of watching movies to catch up on social cues more often and had seen multiple actors contemplate their lives as they looked up at the sky, but it wasn't for him. He wanted someone to talk to.

Looking through his contacts, he ruled out anyone he knew would be sleeping and he always came back to the same person he always went to when he was in trouble. There had been little question that he would turn to Tim, but he still didn't want to rule out someone who would actually be free this late in the night. Kon debated whether or not to go through with the idea for a few more minutes, but he imagined that Tim would be more upset if he didn't go to him when he needed the help.

Rushing back into his room, Kon cleaned himself up from the dirty roof and packed a night bag. If luck went his way, Tim would let him spend the remaining part of the weekend in Gotham and he would be able to rush back to Smallville before any of the others noticed that he had been gone. If he wasn't able to come back in time, Kon knew he could say that he had to get Batman's help with something to do with the team and that he had only been gone for a few hours. With one final check around the house and farm, Kon made sure everything was in place so that it would only take him a few seconds to fly back into the farm when he needed to feed the animals tomorrow.

When Kon did finally take off, he went far slower than he was capable of to make sure no one heard him go into superspeed. He stopped over Michigan to debate going one last time, but reaffirmed his decision soon enough to get into Gotham when he knew Tim's patrol would be over. It took him over twice as long to finally reach Gotham and remember where Wayne Manor was, but it was easy enough to track down Tim's heartbeat and he soon found himself walking around Bristol.

Kon remembered most of the security around the Manor, Batman had showed it to him to scare him away from thinking he could in and out as he pleased, but he knew that Batman was out with Nightwing right now and that Alfred would probably be in the cave. He used his knowledge of the security to make it to the front door of the Manor and stopped over the welcoming mat. He didn't want to intrude in case something important was happening and instead he rang the doorbell and waited for an answer.

Even though he knew better, Kon found himself looking through the walls of the Manor and saw Alfred making his way to the door. He tried to make himself look more presentable, he always thought the butler as judging him everytime he came over, and stood straight as the door opened before him.

"Master Conner, may I help you?" Even if he was surprised, Alfred didn't let it show. Kon reminded himself that there must be cameras pointed to this very position on the porch and the butler had had enough time to consider what he would do.

"I was wondering if Tim was awake. I need to talk to him."

Alfred also knew Tim would be the reason for the trip and he had already decided to let the teenager see his grandson. While Bruce might have rules about metas in Gotham, he broke them enough for Superman and there was no reason for Alfred to treat Superman's son any different.

"Would you like me to show you the way to Master Timothy's room?"

Kon shook his head. "I know how to get there."

Alfred excused himself for the remainder of the night and made his way back to where Kon imagined Bruce and Dick were waiting for him.

This was the first time Kon was in the Manor alone and he suddenly felt the need to find Tim as soon as he could. He wasn't afraid per say, but he didn't want to be without company any longer than he absolutely needed to. The halls just seemed too empty for it to be real and it felt like the painting were glaring at him as he walked past. He could see why Tim used to think the mansion was haunted when he was a kid.

When he was finally at Tim's door, the insecurities about what he was doing rushed back into him and he forced himself to remember that Tim wouldn't think any less of him for needing his help. Tim had turned to him for advice often enough.

Finally mustering up the courage to knock, Kon flinched back as the sound seemed amplified by the silence of the hall and forced himself to respect Tim's privacy by not looking in.

On the other side of the wall, Tim shot up in his bed as soon as he heard the wooden floor creak outside his room. His first considered that this was emergency and they needed his help, but he knew neither Dick and Bruce had the tack to knock so this had to be someone else. Checking his phone, he could see that it was only one in the morning and that the others would be coming back from patrol soon. He groaned as he remembered that it was only at midnight when he had got back from patrol and he had to get up for school in a few hours.

He hoped this was worth it.

Turning his attention back to the door as the knocking continued, Tim threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He dug under his pillow for a batarang he kept around for safety and held it behind his back before making his way to the door and preparing himself to attack if needed. If by some stroke of luck Bruce and Dick came back early, he could hold out against an enemy if this did end up being an attack. He cautiously opened the door ready for anything.

As soon as Tim saw Kon, the anxiety washed away and was replaced with curiosity. The clone was one of the last people he expected to be knocking at his door this early. When he had a moment of clarity, Tim pulled Kon into his room before his family could drop by and ask questions.

Increasingly nervous about his decision to come to Batman's city, Kon sat down on the bed and waited for Tim to start asking his normal questions. If things went sour he could just tell Tim this was a dream and fly back to Smallville as if nothing had happened.

Usually Kon was animated and excited so his tension and nervousness through Tim off. Concerned that his boyfriend was in trouble, Tim sat beside him and asked, "Is everything alright? I didn't have any message on my phone so-"

"No. I didn't text you about coming here, although, thinking about it now it would be a good idea." He hadn't wanted to bother Tim while he was sleeping, he also thought he might have changed his mind, but now he felt like Tim might have wanted the advanced notice.

Even more concerned by the rushed explanation, Tim asked, "What is it?"

Ashamed that he was in this position, Kon refused to look at Tim as he answered, "It's just that...I was lonely."

Hoping to ease of the tension, Tim chuckled and asked, "You knocked on my door at 1 in the morning, to cuddle?" When Kon only gave him a fake smile, Tim decided to ask something more pertinent. "What happened with Clark's birthday? That was this weekend."

The last time they had talked about it, Conner seemed a little excited with having an opportunity to bond with his father, but something must have happened after their last conversation to keep Kon away from Metropolis.

"He was just being nice, he didn't really want me there. It's his birthday so I decided just to stay out of it."

Not wanting to question the obviously upset clone's decision, Tim decide to pivot to something lighter. Turning his attention to the backpack, Tim asked, "Do you want to stay for the whole weekend?"

"If that's okay with you. I know Bruce won't be happy about this." Kon had been trying to avoid thinking about Batman, but there was no way he would be able to avoid him when breakfast came around.

Uninterested in what his father would think and ready to head back to sleep, Tim offered, "You can sleep with me tonight and I'll deal with him in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Lying back on the bed making sure to leave enough room for Kon, Tim added, "If you need to borrow some pjs you know where they are."

Kon grabbed some of his own from his bag; sometimes Tim was blissfully unaware of just how small he was compared to the others, especially a clone of Superman. He got ready for bed in Tim's bathroom to change and although it didn't take him long, Tim was already asleep when he went back into his room.

Slowly lowering himself into the empty spot Tim had designated for him, Kon immediately stopped caring about anything other than getting some rest and enjoying Tim's warmth beside him.

They settled into the now familiar position and dozed off quick enough to miss the sound of Bruce and Dick returning to their rooms an hour later.

As he always did when he got back from a patrol, Bruce looked into Tim's room to make sure the teenager was sleeping. Being the youngest and the only one who had school, Tim had the most time off of patrol that he liked to spend working on cases from his room. Right now, Bruce would have prefered to see Tim working if it meant he wouldn't' be sleeping curled into Kon's chest.

Dick found him standing in the doorway staring at the sight and chuckled as he imagined what was going through his father's mind. Slowly leading Bruce back into his room and closing the door to Tim's, Dick tried to calm him down in his own special way. "Look on the bright side; we could have walked in on something even more intimate."

It didn't seem to have the intended effect because now Bruce was shooting a glare in the direction of Tim's room hoping the clone would be able to feel it and get the message and run off back to Smallville. Under his breath he muttered, "Tim's not allowed to have people over this late. They knew they were doing something wrong and that's why they waited until we were out on patrol."

"Yeah, but they still had to get through Alfred and he didn't have a problem with it or he would have told Conner to go home."

Bruce scoffed, "He's always been a romantic."

"And you know what this weekend is. You know something must have happened and Conner came here looking for Tim to comfort him. That's why he brought an overnight bag. If he was planning on sneaking in and out under our noses he would have either left already or plan on doing so in the morning."

They both knew the truth, Bruce had seen all of that and still wasn't happy with the surprise. If the clone was anything like the person he was modeled after he would be a good partner for Tim and there would be little for them to complain about, but they would still find something.

Tired of thinking about it, Bruce told Dick, "You should go to your room and get some sleep. You have an early shift at the station."

"No, there are some things we need to go over."

Wanting to get what little sleep he could, especially with the idea Dick and implanted in him, Bruce groaned, "The only open cases we have right now can wait until after breakfast."

Dick gave him the same disarming grin he gave criminals when he tricked them into thinking they could go easy on him. "No, you need to practice what you're going to say in the morning when Tim and Kon come down for breakfast." Not stopping at the glare Bruce gave him, Dick added, "Repeat after me. 'Conner, what a nice surprise. I wasn't expecting you over, but I am happy you will be joining us for the rest of the weekend.'"


	21. Doors (Tim, Dick, and Bruce)

If there was a door, they deserved to see what was on the other side

 **Doors**

* * *

There were always areas of Wayne Manor Tim and Dick weren't allowed to see. Over the years they had been here, Alfred and Bruce always chided, 'You'll understand when you're older' or 'It's not safe for kids' but that only heightened their curiosity. The two must have been out of practice when it came to parenting because the boys might not have thought too much of it if they didn't outright say they weren't allowed.

It was too late now, Dick and Tim decided needed to know what they were keeping secret.

The room they were most anxious to see was the first floor library. Neither of the boys were interested in the books, the library on the second floor was closer to their rooms and had much more books, but Bruce and Alfred seemed to disappear in there for many, many hours. The two boys had even been able to catch Alfred and Bruce going in the room after putting them down to sleep and coming back closer to when it was time to wake up.

The following night, Tim and Dick made a plan to follow the two and finally get some well deserved answers. After pretending to go to sleep, they snuck out of bed and congregated at the top of the stairs watching as Alfred went around dimming the lights and checking the locks.

Bruce wasn't too far away and discussed his expectation for the patrol tonight. A few feet above them and straining to listen into the conversation, the only words the kids could make out were 'Gordon' and 'drugs.'

The implication of the words only made Dick more excited and he quietly lead Tim down the stairs as the older pair moved their conversation to the kitchen. They listened in as Bruce grabbed some water to drink and scrolled through something on his iPad. Dick motioned for Tim to stand still as the adults finally made their way to the library and grabbed the five year old's hand as they followed closely behind Alfred.

Once the door closed behind the butler, they waited outside the library and tried to make out what the voices were saying. When Dick got the impression something was going on, he told Tim to stay behind as he slowly opened the door to catch a glance of what the adults were doing. He wasn't able to see much, but he heard Bruce play something on the piano and heavy gears shift. Mustering up the courage to open the door to make a slightly wider gap, Dick looked in as a part of the book case shifted and the room was left empty.

He stepped in shocked and looked around to see if the two were playing with them. This had to be some kind of prank to make the boys feel bad for getting out of bed so late.

Tim peaked into the room to see what was taking his brother so long and what everyone was doing without him. Dick watched as Tim rushed in excited and then looked to him confused when he couldn't find Bruce or Alfred.

Looking around the room one last time to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him, Tim stood in the center of the room shocked and asked, "Where did they go?"

Dick pointed to the bookcase he had seen shift after Bruce and Alfred disappeared. "They went behind the bookcase. There's a secret door over there."

Running over in the direction of Dick's finger, Tim tried to see if he could find the secret opening. He failed in pushing the bookcase out of the way, but he still jumped around excited. "This house is like from the movies. Buried treasure, Dick. Buried treasure!" Looking back to where he thought the hole to be, Tim could imagine a famous pirate must hiding his gold in a tunnel behind the books. Even better, it could lead to a map and they would have to go all over the world looking for the treasure.

Dick let his brother enjoy his hunt while he turned his attention to the piano in the center of the room. He tried to remember the keys he had heard Bruce play a few minutes ago and listened for the same shift in gears. It took him a while with all the possible variation, but through trial and error Dick narrowed it down and finally got it right.

Tim stepped back as he heard something churn from behind the case and ran behind Dick for safety. Although there was still a very high chance this would lead to treasure, Tim realized there was also a chance this could lead to a monster who was angry at them for playing on his or her piano.

Investigating the change, Dick circled around the case until he found skid marks on the wall showing him just how to push. Tim looked up at him anxious and waited to see what would happen next.

Dick knew Tim was right to be a little worried and he whisper a warning to his brother. "Whatever happens, don't make any noise. We don't want to be caught."

Nodding his head in understanding, Tim stepped up beside Dick and decided to help him with the pushing. Dick had been the one to figure out how to open the secret door through the piano and this was the least he could do to help.

It gave way easily enough and when there was a crack small enough for the both of them to squeeze through they took a step back.

Although he took great pride in how strong he was, Tim had to ask, "Are you sure about this?" He was beginning to get very powerful second thoughts and he didn't want to see what was in the emptiness if it ended up being something horrible.

Knowing Tim needed some encouragement, Dick took his little brother's hand into his own and promised, "I'll be right next to you, Tim. No matter what."

Taking in some of his resolution, Tim straightened up and squeezed his brother's hand as they walked into the darkness.

The first thing that struck them was just how dark it was. They could just barely make out a flight of stairs with the light seeping in from the library, but they couldn't see what was at the end of the stairs. There were dark walls on either side of the stairs creating a feeling that they were in a tunnel, but something had to be at the bottom if someone went through such high measures to hide it. Dick felt the need to remind Tim, "Don't make any noise. We don't want to be caught."

Once their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they took very careful and quiet steps until the wall on their left side finished and they could look in very quickly to see if they had been caught yet. There was a large open area with a large light source on the wall and squeaking bats overhead. Dick could see that this was a cave, the ones that ran under the Manor.

Not wanting to risk him getting hurt, Dick tried to motion for Tim to stay behind until he could see what was so important about this cave, but he only succeeded in making his brother squeeze his hand even tighter.

Dick's lips thinned at the response, but he tried to think of a proper plan. He decided to go about this the old fashioned way he had seen spies act in movies and motioned for Tim to flatten himself against the wall so they could limit just how much Bruce and Alfred would be able to see.

Getting a proper look, they could see that the main light source was in fact a large monitor and surrounded by technology neither of the two understood. What they could make out was THE BATMAN talking to Alfred about something that must have been annoying him because he looked angry.

They were unsure of what to make of the two talking to each other, but they absolutely did not know what to think about Batman taking his cowl off to expose himself as Bruce. It was by pure luck Dick was able to clasp his hand over Tim's mouth and hold back the gasp the five year old let out.

They stood still for a few minutes trying to come to terms with what they were seeing, but they eventually moved forward and left the safety of the wall to hide behind a peculiar dinosaur. The legs were wide enough to hide the boys and for a moment Tim had to remind himself that Batman was more important than the opportunity to touch a real life dinosaur.

Although they were still by the outer wall of the cave, the view was much better and they could make out the conversation through the occasional noise from up top.

Bruce was tapping away at the keyboard looking at something on the large monitor. He wanted to confirm that he actually had to go to this JL meeting and if there was any way out. After he found what he was looking for, he got up and brought the cowl back over his head. He was checking something on his monitor as he complained, "I would rather stay behind and look for some more clues than go out to the meeting."

"You were the one to schedule it for today, Master Bruce. I'm afraid nothing can be changed, even for the Batman himself." Alfred snarkiness was unchanged from his personality above ground and Dick wondered what other secrets the two could possibly have. It would be too much for him if Alfred ended up being a vigilante too.

Unfazed by the attitude, Bruce closed his gauntlet and said, "While I'm gone, look through the the bio profile again. I can't help but think Gordon and I are missing something important."

"Of course, Master Bruce."

Still hidden behind the dinosaur, they watched as Bruce walked off to something outside of their eye line and Alfred disappeared in the other direction. There were a few minutes where neither of them dared to do anything in case they returned, but when nothing changed they edged closer to the center of the room and took in everything in the cave.

From their position they could see that Alfred was behind a door in a separate part of the cave working on something with his goggles on and listening to his Beatles music. Although they looked in the direction he had walked off in, neither of them could find Bruce. The only thing anywhere close was was a giant glowing circle with steps leading up to it and a control panel on the side.

Dick had his own idea of what this meant, but just to be sure he found a rock and threw it into the circle. Just as he had expected, it disappeared from a cave and landed where he assumed the adjoining machine was.

He jumped up and down with excitement as he explained to Tim, "That's a teleporter. It takes you to somewhere else in one second." Rushing over to the panel, he tried to see if he could figure out where the rock ended up landing but it was far too complicated for him to read. He took a step back as he judged what he could do with this.

The machine did not excite Tim and instead of rushing up towards it he edged away in case he accidentally ended up on the other side.

In the same time Dick made up his mind on what to do. Putting his hands on Tim's shoulder and looking him in the eye so he could see just how serious he was, Dick said, "I'm going to go through it, Tim. I want to see what was on the other side."

"No, Dick. Don't do it," Tim pleaded. If something went wrong he didn't want to lose his older brother

Dick understood why Tim would be scared, but he wanted him to understand why the idea excited him. "It could be anything, Tim. I could end up anywhere in the world and find Bruce - Batman - doing something amazing. Just imagine what Bruce is doing right now!"

"It could be a monster." He wasn't completely sure there weren't any in the cave with them right now and from this perspective the dinosaur wasn't exciting, he was just terrifying.

Dick considered Tim's worry and offered him a plan. "You don't have to come with me. I'll go through, just give me a few minutes, then run to Alfred and explain what happened. If something happens then he'll tell Bruce and he'll bring me back. If you don't want to get in trouble, just run back upstairs and we'll say I did this by myself and young had no idea."

"No, Dick. Don't do it. Please don't do it." Tim did not want to lose his brother to the monsters or an angry Bruce. Plus, how were they going to believe the second story if Dick wasn't strong enough to push the bookcase open and Tim had done most of the work? Tim couldn't help but think Dick wasn't thinking this through.

Ruffling Tim's hair in a way that was meant to be supportive but only came out as smug, Dick assured him, "Nothing bad will happen, Tim. This will be exciting."

Tim shook his head in defiance and begged, "I don't like this, Dick. Don't do it."

As Dick turned away from him, he pleaded, "If you go you could get hurt. Don't go through the door. Please."

When that didn't work he tried something even worse. "You could die, Dick. Don't do it."

With Dick edging closer, Tim tried something he hoped would make his brother reconsider, "I'll hate you if you do this."

When Dick was at the foot of the giant circle, Tim used his last resort. "If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back, Dick. I don't care what happens to you."

Not at all believing his little brother, Dick gave him a final wave before taking a deep breath and walking through.

There was a rush of silence as Tim watched him disappear and he realized he had yelled out the last part. After a quick glance behind him he could see Alfred was looking at him in shock and in a moment of panic he decided to follow Dick through the door. If he was going to be grounded for the rest of his life, he might as well blame it on Dick.


	22. Appetite

Tim's move to the Manor had brought about many changes in his lifestyle, the most apparent being his increased appetite. Once he ended up with an upset stomach, Bruce and Alfred have to take over as Tim can't be expected to look over his own diet.

 **Appetite**

* * *

Bruce sighed as he watched Tim sit still in one of the chairs opposite his desk. He had been trying to introduce the boy to the rest of the Manor and hopefully get him interested in something, but Tim seemed content in following Bruce around and enjoying the silence. His new shadow didn't bother him that much, but Bruce still wanted Tim to feel comfortable with everything else in his new home. Instead, the boy seemed intent on keeping Bruce in his sights even if it meant sitting in an office with nothing much to do. It might have had to do with the fact the Manor was empty or that Tim was all too experienced with spending his days alone. In either case, Bruce enjoyed have another person to spend his day with. Tim was content to sit in Bruce's office and read one of his books while he waited for Alfred to bring Dick home.

Not finding much more for him to do with his work, Bruce looked up from the recipe he had been researching on his laptop and drew Tim's attention away from his book. "How about we get a snack ready for Alfred and Dick, something to celebrate winter break and it being close to Christmas?"

Just as he expected, Tim jumped out from the chair and put his book to the side. "Can I help make it?"

"What did Alfred say about you helping?"

Thinking back to one of the many lectures Alfred had given him when he moved, Tim recalled, "He said I can help if I've been good and I've been very good."

Bruce wouldn't be the one to argue with Alfred's judgement. Tim had been an excellent child ever since he had moved to the Manor, definitely more well behaved than Bruce remembered himself being when he was Tim's age. He wanted to think it was a boon from the model parenting by the Drakes, but Bruce knew better. Tim had been taught, conditioned, to think that any bad behavior on his part would lead to his isolation, to long spans of time where he wouldn't have any contact from anyone outside of those paid to take care of him and banishments to his room the few times his parents were around to find some faults in him.

It was a work in progress, an uphill battle to get Tim to open up and one Bruce wanted to see through until Tim was ready to not hide anything from him.

Looking behind to see the five year old race to try and keep up with his own much longer strides, Bruce couldn't imagine what Tim's former parents must have been thinking. He didn't think he would ever be able to comprehend the abuse they had forced onto Tim, but Bruce was sure he would do everything in his grasp to give him everything he ever wanted if only to make up for not intervening and missing the signs for so many years.

Thinking about the past wouldn't do too much for either of them. As he watched Tim carefully make his way down the stairs, holding on to the railing as he reached for the next step, Bruce tried to focus on the positives. In the few weeks Tim had been in the Manor, he had already grown attached to everyone in the family and was showing a lot of improvement. Tim wasn't as nervous to reach out for them and had grown comfortable enough to go to Dick if he ever needed help falling asleep. When both Dick and Bruce were busy with their work, Tim would hunt down Alfred and offer him help with whatever he was doing. Tim's reward was usually a treat of some kind, his favorite being the caramel Alfred kept in the pantry.

It was one the first victories for the family. Tim had previously been too nervous to ask for anything, especially food. He was still slightly underweight, but much better than a few weeks ago. Leslie's professional opinion was that Tim was suffering from malnutrition and it had played a role in his slightly stunted growth but an improvement diet would . When Tim learned this, he was all too ready to eat more if it meant he could catch up to the rest of his peers and maybe someday be as tall as Dick. Every few days he would have Bruce measure how tall he was along the small wall he had used over twenty years ago and compare his growth to Bruce's.

When they entered the kitchen, Bruce lifted Tim onto the counter and found mugs in the cabinet that he set down beside the five year old. Tim didn't say anything, but he looked at Bruce confused about what they would be making. Reminding himself that Tim had little experience to the regular Christmas traditions Bruce had grown accustomed to, Bruce asked, "Have you had hot chocolate before?"

Tim shook his head, but he did add, "I saw some on tv in the Christmas movies me and Dick were watching. They seemed to like it."

Looking through the pans to find one that matched the picture he had seen, Bruce told him, "I'm sure you're going to love it. Dick told me chocolate is one of your favorites."

"Yeah and I also like strawberry."

As he gathered the ingredients he remembered from the recipe he had looked up online, Bruce also picked out a few strawberries for Tim to eat while they worked on the drink. After putting everything in, Bruce handed the saucepan to Tim for him to begin whisking as Bruce heated up the stove.

While he watched Bruce add in milk and continue mixing everything together, Tim looked over at the brown powder Bruce had explained was cocoa. It was the only brown thing in the pile of ingredients and sounded close enough to 'chocolate' for Tim to ask, "Is this where chocolate comes from?"

Bruce reminded himself to keep his explanation simple enough for a five year old. "It's one of the things that goes into chocolate and the most important, but there are a few other things like milk and sugar."

Picking up a spoon, Tim reached into the jar and tasted the powder. Instead of the sweet taste of chocolate, Tim was treated to something too dry and no where near as tasty. He cringed back and ate another strawberry to get the horrible taste out of his mouth.

Watching the reaction with a little smile, Bruce reiterated, "The milk and sugar are important parts of chocolate." Placing another spoon in the mixture, Bruce blew on it until it was cool enough and held it out for Tim to try. At the unsure look the five year old gave him, Bruce promised, "This will taste a lot better."

Tim took the spoon in his own hand and blew on it a little more to make sure it was cold enough and carefully tested the mixture. To his surprise it tasted as good as Bruce had promised and he could see why everyone in the movies seemed to like it so much.

Bruce found a small bowl and he placed a few more spoonfuls of hot chocolate for Tim to go through while they waited for Alfred and Dick to come home. It was all he could do to keep the kid away from the hot stove and the rest of the hot chocolate. He kept Tim settled in the chair with a promise that they would add marshmallows to the drink and make it even better.

* * *

It was the smell that woke him up first. It carried all the way to Bruce's bed and he follow it back to Tim's room. Bruce forwent knocking and slowly opened the door to look in. He found Tim silently crying on his bed and trying to edge himself away from the puddle of his vomit. It didn't seem to work in his favor because he only ended up shifting the vomit around his sheets and getting it stuck to his hands and clothes.

Bruce reached over the bed and carried Tim into the bathroom. He tried to comfort the crying boy with the assurance that, "It's okay, Tim. It's going to be okay."

Tim couldn't do much other than wipe his hands clean on Bruce's night shirt and try and clean his mouth on Bruce's shoulder. Supporting him over the sink, Bruce turned the faucet on and helped Tim rinse out of his mouth. Once Tim was rid of the bitter taste in his mouth, Bruce let him down and allowed the boy to clean off his face while he readied the bath. Just to get rid of the smell, Bruce found some of the bath bubbles and added a liberal amount before helping Tim out of his clothes.

The only worse than having the vomit on his clothes, was the feeling of it growing colder and the way it struck to his skin as Bruce took them off. It was enough for Tim to begin feeling sick again, but this time Bruce was able to lift him up to the sink quick enough to not make any mess.

In the neighboring room, Dick quickly rose up to investigate the source of the noise. Before he was even in the hall the smell made him cringe back, but he soldiered his way over to Tim's room to make sure he wasn't in trouble. He found the bed empty but soiled and followed the noise to the bathroom where he found Bruce helping a naked Tim into the bathtub. He could see Tim's puffy red eyes that he knew were the result of tears and it he immediately kneeled down beside Bruce to see if he could help.

"Timmy, what happened? Are you okay?" Dick had only been a big brother for a few weeks and he didn't want something to go wrong so early.

Looking down to his lap defeated as Bruce cleaned his back, Tim mumbled out, "My stomach, Dick. My stomach hurts and my insides feel hot and I threw up."

Reaching away from Tim to grab some shampoo, Bruce asked Dick, "Do you feel sick? It might have been something in the food."

Dick shook his head. "No, I feel fine."

Pouring the shampoo into his hand, Bruce thought for a moment before instructing Dick, "Go wake up Alfred. He'll probably have something that can make Tim feel better."

Accepting his mission, Dick rushed out to Alfred's room and woke up the sleeping butler. He quickly explained, "Tim's been throwing up and feeling sick and Bruce needs your help."

Alfred rose from his bed and quickly made his way to Tim's room to see the mess for himself. He looked over the sheets before pulling them off the bed and dropping them on the corner before they seeped into the mattress. When he checked in on the duo in the bathroom Bruce had succeeded in distracting Tim with a few of his bath toys and finally had the boy clean of any remains of vomit. Feeling Alfred's eyes on him, Bruce rose from his seat on the toilet to discuss whether or not this was serious

Knowing that Alfred would have already figured out what was wrong, Bruce asked him point blank, "What do you think? Should we take him to go see a doctor?"

Smiling slightly at the concern Bruce seldom let himself show, Alfred assured him, "I think we can take a reasonable guess as to what the problem is. There's no reason to rush him to a doctor just yet."

Bruce trusted Alfred's opinion, but still asked, "What do you think happened? It can't have been the food because no one else is showing any signs of being sick."

"I think Master Tim has been eating a lot more than he is used to." Softening up his expression, Alfred added, "We all thought it was a good thing, that he was shedding more of what his parents had conditioned into him, but in doing so we forgot that's it's best to take everything in moderation."

Bruce's lip thinned at the explanation. It definitely made sense and he had full trust in Alfred and his knowledge in raising children. "If we watch over just how much he eats, there shouldn't be an issue right?"

"I don't think so, Master Bruce. Simply keeping Master Tim from eating too much should be enough."

Peeking around to see the time on Tim's clock, Bruce told Alfred, "The boys should probably get back to sleep. I think Tim's going to want company when he goes to sleep and I'll see if Dick wants to join us. Tim will probably be hungry considering how much he threw up but I don't want to risk anything upsetting his stomach so a milkshake might be a good middle ground." Looking between the bed and soiled sheets Alfred had moved off to a corner, Bruce added, "You don't have to set new sheets on the bed, but please take those sheets out and do something about the smell."

Alfred assured him, "Of course, Master Bruce. I'll set the milkshake on your nightstand with some water in case he prefers it."

The tap Bruce gave Alfred's shoulder was a silent, "Good night," to the butler and he turned back to the boys in the bathroom. By now Dick's clothes were covered in water from Tim splashing around in the tub and Dick trying to get as close to his little brother as possible.

Bruce grabbed cut into the boys' conversation and left no room for dissension. "I think it's time to get to bed." Once he had their attention, Bruce added, "If you want you can sleep in my bed tonight-"

"Can I come too?" Dick didn't want to leave his brother just yet.

"Sure, but change out of your clothes so you don't get everyone else wet."

As Dick rushed out of the room to get changed, Bruce opened the drain and ran through Tim's drawers to find him a change of clothes. Once he came back to find the tub mostly without any water, Bruce reached down and covered Tim in the hooded dog towel Tim had fallen in love with before setting him on the counter. While Bruce looked for Tim's baby lotion, Tim tried to look at anything other than him. He focused more on the dog ears coming out of the hood and the paws that covered his hands.

Bruce found the response weird, but he imagined Tim was too tired or still felt unwell so he decided to forgo addressing it. That changed as Tim flinched away from his touch as he started to rub the lotion onto him. Bruce made extra care to not hurt Tim as his skin was still sensitive from the bath but when Tim continued to feel uncomfortable Bruce asked, "Is something wrong? Does it hurt when something touches you?"

Tim didn't give him much other than a quick shake of his head as he looked at the floor leaving Bruce with only the sight of the dog ears peeking back at him.

Trying again, Bruce asked, "Do you still feel sick, like you might throw up again?"

When Tim only gave him another shake of his head, Bruce reached beneath Tim's chin and brought his face up until he couldn't avoid looking at him. Slowly, he asked, "What's the matter, Tim?"

Although he tried to fight out of looking at Bruce, Tim eventually gave in and mumbled, "I made a mess."

"On your bed?" He had been sick and Bruce couldn't see why the mess would be the part to bother Tim the most.

With the little freedom he had in moving his head, Tim nodded and said, "I made a mess on your bed and woke you up."

Bruce's mind immediately went to the conditioning he had discussed with Alfred as he realized Tim thought that he would be more upset about the mess on the bed than he would be concerned about Tim's health. Bruce dropped his hand and quickly looked into his reflection in the mirror to make sure he didn't come off too threatening before promising Tim, "I don't care about that, Tim. I care about you feeling better." The look Tim gave him didn't emote much confidence so Bruce tried again. "I used to be much messier than you and I put Alfred through hell years ago. You won't believe just how much I wet the bed when I was your age. Sometimes I wouldn't even tell anyone just crawl into my parents' bed and deal with the mess in the morning."

Tim tried his hardest not to smile at the image of Bruce wetting the bed. To him a young Bruce looked the exact same as old Bruce except he was shorter. Once he remembered they had been having a serious conversation, Tim quietly asked, "You're not upset?"

"No I'm not upset. I don't care that you made a mess or you woke me up, Tim. I care that you're okay. Plus, it's not my bed, it's yours." Bruce didn't know if Tim was aware, but he let out a small smile and looked perked up at a declaration. Hoping that it was enough, Bruce told him, "Alfred and I think that you've been eating too much and it upset your stomach."

"Am I still going to be sick?"

Bruce assured Tim, "You don't have to worry. Alfred and I'll take care of it and if you feel sick in the morning we can take you to see the doctor."

Shaking his head, Tim tried to say, "I can-"

"No, Tim. It's my job to make sure you're healthy, that's why I'm the parent." He didn't like having to be stern, but he didn't want to leave any room for misinterpretation. Bruce knew Tim was prone to thinking the worst and it was his responsibility to make sure he broke that habit. Looking down at Tim sitting still on the counter with only the towel on, Bruce decided this was neither the time nor the place. "We should get you changed; Dick's probably waiting for us."

After going through their regular debate over whether or not Tim should be allowed to sleep in his dog towel, Bruce finally had Tim dressed in his pjs and carried him out to his room. Dick was already sprawled on the bed half asleep, but he shifted to the side as Bruce sat down with Tim. When he saw the milkshake still cold on the nightstand Tim realized just how hungry he was. Before he could down the whole glass in one go, Bruce took it out of his hands every few sips to make sure he paced himself. The room was silent as Dick adjusted on his side of the bed with the only exception of Tim sucking on the straw.

Tim felt as if he was in a daze as he watched Bruce set the empty glass to the side and waited for him to lift the blanket up so they could sleep. As soon as Bruce shifted over to the middle of the bed, Dick and Tim took their regular positions on either side of Bruce.

After a few seconds Dick peeked up to make sure Tim was asleep before he whispered a question to Bruce. Still half between sleep and awake, Dick practically slurred out, "Is Tim going be okay?"

Careful enough not to shake his chest too much, Bruce assured Dick, "Tim's going to be fine."

"Good."


	23. Scars

Dick and Bruce always knew Tim had scars that they couldn't see

 **Scars**

* * *

Tim paced around his room unsure of what to do. His career as Robin was going well and it was the last thing he wanted to screw up, slightly edging out his relationship with Bruce. He had given very strict guidelines when it came to him him joining the field and Tim knew if he didn't stay careful Bruce could very much view this as a liability. Patrol tonight had gone as perfectly as it could have, almost no injuries on their side, and Tim knew this was a perfect opportunity to come clean, there being no tension between the two of them.

He went back and forth between whether or not to confess everything to Bruce, but he finally decided that Batman should know about any and everything that could impact their work out on patrol. The last thing he wanted was to make a mistake that could lead to someone, especially either of them, getting hurt.

Once he felt he was ready, Tim made his way down to the cave where he knew Bruce would be working on the report from their latest case. He made sure his steps were quiet enough that they wouldn't disturb Bruce from his work and waited from the training mats until he saw that Bruce close the document.

Before Bruce could move onto to something else, Tim stepped up beside him and asked, "Can I talk to you for a minute? It's sort of important."

Turning away from the console, Bruce nodded his head concerned. It wasn't often that tone of voice came with good news. "Does it have something to do with last night's patrol?" If it did, Bruce didn't see why it couldn't wait until tomorrow or why Tim was acting out of character.

"Umm, no," Tim shook his head. "It's about me and...it's about me."

Bruce stood up from his chair and offered, "We should talk about this upstairs. Business is for the cave, Tim. Family is handled in the Manor."

Tim hadn't been expecting the move, but he agreed nonetheless. They walked up the stairs in complete silence and only interacted when Bruce held the door open for Tim and when he motioned for him to take a seat beside him on the couch. Along the way, Bruce tried to think of anything Tim would want to talk to him about and Tim focused on Bruce having called him family.

As they sat in awkward silence, Bruce asked, "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Tim shifted in his seat for a moment before deciding it was best to start from the beginning. "I know you don't like my parents-"

"'Don't like' is putting it lightly." Even with the harsh statement Bruce was trying to get rid of some of the tension between them and it seemed to help as the teenager let out some air and gave him a little smile.

"Yeah, I guess you sort of hate them and I get it. Believe me, I understand why you didn't like them even before they-" Tim paused for a moment as he tried to recollect himself before going on. "I told you a lot of stuff and some of it you figured out on your own. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure whether you know this already and I don't think it would be something you'd be able to talk about easily considering you're, well, you and I know-"

"Tim, take a deep breath," Bruce calmly instructed. It wouldn't do either of them any help if Tim didn't remain level headed throughout the conversation and right now he seemed to be panicking. "You don't have to rush this."

"Sorry, I don't know why this is so hard. I went over everything I wanted to say in my head like a million times, but now..." Letting himself stop to catch up on everything he had thought over, Tim worked up the courage to look Bruce in the eye and started over. "I know you hate my parents and how - you know - and I know that you've been looking into some stuff that you didn't talk to me about." As he watched Bruce stiffen at the accusation, Tim promised him, "I'm not upset about that. I knew what this was going to be like when I signed up and that's not what this is about." Making sure to word everything properly, Tim finished, "I know you've been looking at some of the things that come along with neglect and abuse and that you don't want it to mess anything up in the field or with me living with you now that you're my dad, but I figured it would be better for me to tell you outright instead of you speculating or trying to piece everything together yourself."

Although Bruce might not want to admit it, Tim hadn't been wrong with any of his acquisitions and Bruce very much wanted to know more about Tim, but he had also wanted to do it without alerting Tim to his intentions. Nevertheless, he was sure to promise, "Whatever it is that you have to say, it isn't going to bother me, Tim. I want to help you and I know I'm not the best at emotional things, but I want to do my best with you."

Tim nodded before starting again. "So...my parents. They basically did the stuff that we've already talked about; they weren't ever around most of the time and when they were they were angry and loud and it wasn't a lot of fun growing up next door."

As Tim made an off hand motion in the direction of the now empty Drake Mansion, Bruce couldn't help but feel angry at himself for not noticing everything before. If he had Tim would have had an easier life, definitely a healthier one, but a part of him - a selfish part he didn't want to admit existed - knew that it was because of his past that Tim had found his way into Bruce's life. While he would do everything in his power to make Tim's childhood a better one, there would be a part of him regretting the decision if it drew the boy away from him.

Ignorant to the Bruce's dilemma, Tim went on. "It screwed me up a little. I know we've already talked about it some and I saw Leslie for therapy for a while, but there are some things I haven't really mentioned to anyone." Knowing there would be no turning back after this point, Tim fought through his dry mouth and explained, "One of my nannies didn't really like the way things were going happening, I think she hated my parents more than you if it's possible, but she also knew she'd be fired if she said anything and that nothing would happen. Instead of saying anything to them, she took me to see a doctor a few town away, one she knew wouldn't tell anyone or warn my parents, and had something like a psych eval. It wasn't really conclusive of a lot of things because I was young and the doctor wasn't really experienced with abused kids but he did say there was something wrong with me and he recommended another doctor, one in Gotham, for me to see. I went to the second doctor and she said that I had depression and might become prone to self harm or suicidal thoughts as I got older and that it would be best to start getting me away from my parents and into like a safer place but that never happened." Tim knew the worst part was over now and gauging from Bruce's reaction he didn't seem too upset with him. He wasn't sure what he expected from Bruce, but it wasn't the first time he'd have to remind himself that Bruce is different from his parents. "I don't know if the doctor was afraid of upsetting my parents because she knew that they had a lot of leverage in her field and it could lead to her losing her job or that one of my other caretakers noticed that I was leaving the house more often, but someone told my parents and they fired the nanny and stopped the doctors visits. They said something along the lines of, 'There is to be no mention of this ever again.'"

Bruce wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do, but he moved closer to Tim and put a comforting hand on his knee. Tim didn't seem to look upset, but Bruce knew he still might not show him just how distressed he was. Taking a moment to contemplate in silence, Bruce decided he knew exactly what to do. "We can see Leslie if you want. It's been years since your last diagnosis and it wouldn't hurt to get her opinion and see if she can recommend anything."

Expecting their conversation to focus more on the impact this would have on their night jobs, Tim barely got out, "Yeah, that would be fine."

Cautiously breaking the silence that followed, Bruce added, "You mentioned the possibility of self harm and suicidal thought." He ignored how Tim's hands clenched down on the sofa and asked, "Did that ever happen? Have you thought about hurting or killing yourself?"

"Hasn't everyone our line of work?" Tim really didn't want to talk about this and he had been hoping Bruce wouldn't have paid much attention to it, but Tim knew better than to doubt Bruce's attentive skills. Making sure his wording didn't give too much away or imply something that wasn't true, Tim admitted, "I thought about it a little. I never did anything, but sometimes I would imagine what happen if I just didn't use my grappling hook or if I was too slow in dodging a bullet, but I never acted on it. This was mostly in the very beginning, when you and I weren't very close I promise, Bruce." Glancing up to measure Bruce's reaction, Tim gave him a small smile as he finished, "I know I became Robin to help you, but it's also good for me too. I know it sounds cheesy, but I think being Robin saved me from thinking too much about them; it definitely made me a lot happier than they ever did."

Bruce returned the smile and assured Tim, "Making you Robin saved me from a fate I can't imagine. I would be a much different person if you hadn't come along demanding to be a part of my life."

Tim enjoyed the moment, it certainly dispelled many of his fears, but he still had to ask, "Is anything going to change? Are we going to go back to how things were in the beginning?"

Voice thick with resolution, Bruce held Tim's gaze as he said, "No. This doesn't mean anything has to change or that I will look at you differently. You are still my son, one of the most important people in my life, and I value my relationship with you above most everything else. I won't let it get back to when you wanted to die, Tim. I promise, it's never going to be like that again."

Unable to look Bruce in the eye, Tim squeezed his chest and hoped it was enough to show his appreciation. "Can we keep this private? I know some people will have to know, it's impossible to hide something from Alfred, but I don't want anyone else to find out."

It didn't take long for Bruce to figure out, "This about Dick."

Tim didn't say anything for a minute. He didn't quite know why he didn't want Dick to know, but as he thought about it he reasoned, "I know he's not going to think that bad of me, Dick would never do that, but I also know he's going to try too hard to make up for not noticing before. He's going to be afraid of messing up and watch over me as if I'm still a kid."

While he might not like it, Bruce knew it was true. "He doesn't need to know. This can stay between us, Alfred, and Leslie."

Tim nodded and enjoyed the silence for a moment before he worked himself up to ask, "Does this change patrolling? I know it could be bad if something went wrong...but do you think it means things will have to change?"

Bruce didn't want to give Tim any false hope, so he admitted, "It will have to wait until we see a doctor, Tim. I need to know that I'm not putting anyone, including most of all you, at risk."

Even if he didn't like it, Tim assured Bruce, "I understand."

Lip thinning at the defeated tone in Tim's voice, Bruce thought through what Tim would need to hear. When he felt Tim getting ready to get up, Bruce repeated, "This doesn't change anything between us, Tim. I still love you and nothing will change that."

It seemed to work because Tim gave him a small smile before leaving to go to his room. Once again alone, Bruce gave himself a moment to consider everything that had happened. He had always suspected that Tim was hiding some parts of his past from him, but it wasn't something Bruce was going to force him to disclose. Not seeing anything else for him to do, Bruce set a reminder to contact Leslie first thing in the morning and went to his room to see if he could find anymore information on Tim's condition and what he would need from him.

* * *

Ignoring Dick's calls to hurry up, Tim emptied his bag onto his bed. Stupidly, he had forgotten to pack his medicine beneath everything else so that it would be harder for Dick to find it.

This was his first time spending extended time over at Dick's apartment and he wasn't used to having to hide his medicine. Everyone in the Manor was pretty open with the subject, talking about it candidly and making sure Tim always had what he needed. When he and Bruce would go out of town, Bruce would usually keep the pills with him as most people were willing to overlook someone as rich as him having strange pills in his bag. So far no one outside of a tight circle of family and doctors knew and that was how Tim wanted to keep it.

Tim stuffed cotton balls in the bottle to keep them from moving around and wrapped the bottle in a small towel to prevent the pills from making too much noise before repacking the bag and rushing down stairs to find Dick and Bruce talking amongst themselves at the table. Seeing his little brother finally finished and carrying his bags, Dick asked, "What took you so long?"

"I forgot to pack an extra pair of shoes," Tim lied easily. He set his bags down on the floor and began pulling out a seat at the table when Dick motioned for him to stop.

For a second Tim wondered if something had come up and they would have to reschedule, but Dick explained, "We're leaving right now." Signaling to the garage and pulling out his keys, Dick added, "You can start the car and we'll get going right away. I can carry your bags in after Bruce and I finish our conversation."

Tim turned to Bruce and said a quick goodbye before leaving to do the same with Alfred and find Dick's car. While he adjusted the settings from his seat, Tim knew that inside the Manor Dick and Bruce were probably talking about him, Bruce maybe not liking the idea of Tim spending a few weeks of his summer vacation away in Bludhaven.

It had taken weeks of debating between them but eventually Tim had been able to convince Bruce that it would be good for him, a break from Gotham and a chance to spend time with someone who didn't know his secret. He knew Bruce would never actually tell Dick, especially after Tim begged him not to, but the stress he would put on his safety would probably be enough for Dick to start asking questions.

As he heard the door to the garage open, Tim perked up and watched as Dick put the bags in the trunk and made his way to the driver's side and take his place. Once he was buckled up, Dick asked, "Are you sure you didn't forget anything?"

"No, I have everything." When Dick nodded and began pulling out from the garage, Tim asked, "What were you and Bruce talking about?"

Dick didn't say anything for a moment and Tim began to think that Dick looked a lot more apprehensive than usual. Dick had been the one to come up with the idea for the visit after complaining that he wasn't seeing Tim enough, but it wouldn't be crazy to think that he'd realized he didn't want to spend what little summer-like weather Bludhaven had looking after a teenager.

Tim turned his gaze away from Dick and began thinking about feigning a reason to be come back to Gotham but Dick's voice cut through as he explained, "Bruce just has a little trouble with birds leaving the nest. He doesn't like the idea of him not being there if we need him, especially considering we'll be patrolling together. Tonight he wanted to make sure I was up to date on your training and everything."

Unsure of whether or not Dick was complaining, Tim decided against commenting and simply looked forward.

Not wanting to think too much of the silence, Dick focused on the busy road and wanted to imagine that Tim might just be feeling tired from a long day. He considered leaving Tim alone to rest, but a quick look over to the passenger seat told him just how uncomfortable Tim was. Concerned, Dick decided to ask a pretty straightforward question. "Are you okay? You look a little tense and you're never tense when you're with me."

"It's nothing."

"Tim." Dick didn't like using his stern voice, but he knew when to use it.

Playing with his fingers as he tried to collect himself, Tim asked, "Do you still wanna do this?" He was quick to assure Dick, "I'd understand if you changed your mind. A few weeks is a long time and you're probably busy with work and everything."

"No, Tim. Of course not." Looking back to see Tim's expression unchanged, Dick assured him, "I've been looking forward to this for a long time. It's been too long since we've had any time by ourselves and I've missed having you around."

"I've missed you too, Dick-"

"So what's with the all the second guessing?"

"You looked upset about something and I thought you had changed your mind," Tim answered honestly.

Dick sighed before admitting, "Bruce and I had a less than stellar conversation and I'm still trying to digest it." It had been a while since he and Bruce had had a heated talk, but for whatever reason this trip was enough.

Curious about just how much Bruce had told him, Tim asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Smiling over to his little brother, Dick promised, "It's nothing, Tim."

Mimicking the same stern voice Dick had used a few moments ago, Tim simply used his best imitation of Bruce's glare to say, "Dick."

Taking a moment to word things properly, Dick blurted out, "I just get the feeling that Bruce is a lot more protective of you than he has ever been with me."

"Does that bother you?" Tim didn't want to explain everything to Dick, but if it meant dispelling any fears or jealousy Dick might have he was more than willing to admit anything Dick needed him to.

"I'm not jealous, Tim. I'm beyond happy that you and Bruce are getting along so well, but I do think there's something you two are keeping from me." Turning to see Tim unable to look up, Dick assured him, "I'm not upset either. You and B are partners and that means you'll have to keep some things private, even from me."

"Dick, I'm the one who asked not to tell you. Bruce was just doing what I asked him to." The last thing Tim wanted was to was cause a rift between Dick and Bruce.

Dick slowly repeated, "I'm not upset, Tim." I just want you to know that no matter what it is, I won't think any different of you."

Tim knew there would be no way to know for sure until push came to shove and he wanted to hold out on that as long as he could. "Can we talk about something else? Something lighter?"

Happy for the chance to change the subject, Dick asked, "What movies do you want to watch tonight? I have all of our favorites plus some new ones Wally promised we'd like."

"I want to start with the new ones and work back to the classics."

"Good idea little brother."

* * *

Dick fidgeted from his position in his chair and tried to imagine he was anywhere else. When he had gotten here a few hours ago he had been meaning to silently break in and out with Tim before anyone noticed, but as fate would have it he was now sitting in the middle of the very thing he had been trying to avoid. Apparently the gala had started earlier than Dick had expected and now he was pretending to be interested in a discussion that he had already lost track of.

Bruce had been adamant about him making a public appearance after not showing up to an event in months and any escape would have to be made without him knowing and right now he was across the room talking with someone Dick recognised to be a board member for Wayne Enterprises. Dick waited for Bruce to get slightly inebriated before he heavily implied to a few businessmen and women that Bruce might be interested in hiring them. It only took a few minutes for them to crowd around him and ask for private meetings.

Once Bruce was out of the picture, Dick was able to break away from the crowd with a feigned trip to the bathroom and quickly sprint his way to Tim's room. He and Tim could always use the window exit and hightail it to his car.

There were a few stranglers moving around the first floor and looking at the artwork, but as soon as Dick climbed the stairs up to the bedrooms he knew he didn't have to worry. Finding Tim's room empty, Dick considered his options. His brother might have been able to find a way out before Dick even showed up. Dick dug out his phone from his pocket and called Tim hoping to find out where his little brother was. When he got Tim's voicemail, Dick sighed and looked around the room looked for some clue to where Tim might have gone. He knew Tim kept a thorough schedule somewhere, but he'd have to look hard to find it.

The first place he looked was Tim's nightstands and under his pillows and when Dick found nothing he turned to his desk. He moved around a few stray papers and channeled his inner Alfred to straightened up the mess when he found a small pill bottle candidly sitting beside an empty glass of water. He in denial as he fell back in the desk chair and brought the bottle up to his face and read the label.

There was no room for doubt as he read 'Timothy J. Wayne and 'Dr. Leslie Thompkins' clear as day on the label. The name of the medicine wasn't something he had seen before but it definitely wasn't the name of any of the pain medication Bruce allowed them to keep. He didn't know what to do, but he memorized the name and put everything back to where he had found it before closing the door behind him just in time to feel his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Once again he read Tim's name, this time across the top of his phone. He wondered if Tim had somehow found out that he had been snooping around his room, but he knew that wasn't it when he heard the cheeriness in Tim's voice.

"Hey, Dick. I saw that you called me and I missed it."

It took Dick a few minutes to catch his voice, but he eventually choked out, "Umm, yeah. I thought I was supposed to steal you away from the party, but it looks like you didn't need me."

Tim gave him a light laugh before explaining, "As soon as I smelled Brucie's cologne I was out. I had had a few friends pick me up and after I was a few miles away I texted B that I'd be away catching a movie."

He tried to focus on something other than the pills and joked, "You know you could have given me a heads up little brother. I can smell the fancy perfume all the way to your room."

"I didn't even know you - What are you doing in my room?" Tim's voice had lost some of it's light tone, but under normal circumstances Dick didn't think he'd notice.

It took a moment but Dick remembered, "I was looking for you." Trying to change the subject to something less incriminating, Dick asked, "Which movie?"

"What?"

Dick repeated, "Which movie are you planning on watching?"

Taking a second to talk with his friends, Tim answered, "We're still in line right now and haven't decided, but I think we're leaning closer to horror right now."

Dick didn't know what to say next, but he decided he wanted to see Tim as soon as possible. "You know what, call me after the movies over and we can hang out."

"Dick, you don't have to-"

"I was planning on spending the day with you already. I want to, Tim."

"Ok sure." Tim promised, "I'll call you after we finish up with the movie."

"Tim."

"Yeah, Dick?"

Dick wondered if he'd be man enough to actually confess everything to Tim over the phone, but he decided Tim deserved to enjoy the movie without worrying about what Bruce would do if he found out. "Nothing. Just don't forget alright?"

"No problem." Turning to his friends as they finally settled on which movie they wanted to see, Tim glanced up at the runtime before telling Dick, "We're going in right now so I'll call you in about 2 hours. Bye, Dick."

"Bye, Tim. Stay safe."

He was ready to turn off the phone, but Tim had to ask, "Are you sure you're alright, Dick? You sound a little weird."

Smiling as Tim was always the one to worry, Dick assured him, "I'm fine. I think I just had some bad shrimp at the party. Call me back alright."

"Promise. See you later, Dick."

Before Dick could say anything else, the phone clicked off and Dick was left alone to think everything over. He had a sneaking suspicion that this was what Bruce and Tim had been hiding from him, but he didn't want to corner Bruce into saying something that would upset Tim or break any promise they might have had.

Instead, he went back to his room and to look into the medicine Tim was taking. It only took a few searches for him to get the picture and a few hours to get himself ready to see Tim again and act as if he didn't know anything.

* * *

Dick never in his life imagined himself being the reason Tim would be so distressed. After he had found out a few years ago, he imagined helping Tim through an episode. He even went as far as to prepare different lines to use when the situation came up. What he never expected was that he would be the cause of the problem, the person Tim hated the most in the world.

In a tone he hoped wasn't too patronizing, Dick tried to explain, "Tim, you need to understand where I'm coming from."

"Where exactly is that, Dick? From where I'm standing it doesn't look like you're really helping," Tim shot back. He had a lot more anger than he knew what to do with.

"It might not look like it, but it's what I'm trying to do."

Tim threw his arms up and asked, "How is this helping? You basically just said you think I'm crazy."

Dick was quick to point out, "I never said you're crazy, Tim. I just think you're not thinking clearly."

"And why do you think that?"

Hoping Dick would see the logic in his argument, Dick explained, "Bruce died, Tim. We saw the body and we had a funeral. No one could have survived that."

"He could have," Tim countered, "Bruce could have survived something ten times worse."

Dick slowly forced out, "Are you sure some other things aren't in play right now?"

"What 'other things?'" Tim asked taken aback. Dick might have implied he thought Tim was mental, but he never flat out accused him. A part of Tim wanted to see how close Dick would go.

Seeing no nice way of coming clean, Dick simply admitted, "I know, Tim. I know about the depression and the pills and the therapy and I think they might be the reason you think Bruce is still alive."

Dick had expected Tim to blow up at him, it certainly seemed to be the climax everything was leading to, but instead he stepped back and tried to think of something to say. Once he got himself together, Tim evenly asked, "How did you find out?"

"Remember that night when I got stuck at a charity looking for you and took you out after you caught a movie with your friends. I found your medicine on your desk and looked it up."

"That was like two years ago! How have you never brought it up before now?" Tim didn't know what was worse, Dick not telling him as soon as he found out or the fact that he thought it meant he couldn't think straight enough to do his job.

"I didn't know how to, okay. It was an invasion of your privacy and I knew you would be upset. I didn't want to do anything to make you feel worse."

"Congratulations, Dick. You're doing a great job," Tim spat out sarcastically.

"Do you think I wanted this, Tim?" Dick asked. "I'm trying to do the best I can."

Hearing the sincerity in his voice, the way Dick was trying to grasp at straws to keep from losing him, Tim lost some of the anger he had using to fuel his harsh words. No matter how much he might not want to admit it, Dick was trying. Knowing he needed to be just as sincere, Tim told him, "I just want your support, Dick. I want you to understand that I'm being as reasonable as I've ever been."

Slowly inching forward until he knew Tim wouldn't fight him, Dick threw his arms around Tim and stressed, "We saw his body, Tim. We had everyone look him over to make sure there was nothing we could do. We were there over his casket as they lowered it into the ground and everyone was there to make sure we were okay."

"I know that, Dick. I know that, but I also know Bruce could survive that."

"Don't you think I want that too? He was our dad, Tim. I want him to be alive more than I've wanted anything in my life."

Finding enough room to look up to Dick, Tim asked, "Then why are you fighting me on this?"

Dick sighed into Tim's hair before promising, "If you can come up with some proof, Tim, I'll be right beside you while you look for him."

"Really?" Tim straightened up and searched Dick's face to ascertain that he was telling the truth. "If I get you enough proof you'll come and help?"

Dick hadn't been expected Tim to react so excitedly, but he wasn't doing to lose the only progress he had made with Tim. "Yeah if you can convince me I'll help you any way I can. Until then I need to stay in Gotham. I'd like it if you could stay with me..."

Ignoring the request, Tim stepped out of Dick's hold and promised, "I'll prove it to you, Dick. I'll...I'll go out and find something that you can't deny and...and then you'll have to believe me."

Dick wanted to take it back, to take everything back and keep Tim in Gotham with him, but he could tell that it wasn't what Tim needed. He needed to go out and come to terms with the truth himself and all Dick could ask was, "Don't phase me out, alright? Right now you're pretty much all I have and I need to know you're safe. I need to know that something really bad doesn't happen to you. I can't lose you too, Tim. I just can't."

Finding it in himself to give Dick a small smile, Tim promised, "You'll never lose me, Dick. And pretty soon we'll have Bruce back too."

Not wanting to start another argument, Dick simply returned the smile and offered, "We should head up. Alfred is probably waiting for us." Looking up, he contemplated something before telling Tim, "I just need a few more minutes and I'll follow you up."

Not seeing any other work they could have, Tim asked, "You sure, Dick?"

"Yeah, I just need to check up on a few things. I'll be up before you know it."

Tim gave him a small nod before making his way up the stairs. Dick watched him until he closed the bookcase behind him before walking out to the exist that lead to the backyard. Somewhere in his mind he was thinking that he should have brought a coat, but the cold air and damp grass didn't register as he walked his way to small grave plot on the edge of the Wayne estate. He easily spotted the one plot where the grass hadn't quite grown in the mud and took the heavy steps over until he was standing in front of the gravestone.

He didn't do anything other than stare at the name for a few minutes before he found his voice. Dick slowly put a hand on the cold marble tombstone and whispered, "Tim isn't doing well. None of us are, but he's doing the worst. He still thinks you're alive, that you somehow survived, but I know and I think in a weeks he'll come to terms with the truth." Dick took a moment to clear his head before saying, "I'm going to take care of him, Bruce. I promise."


	24. Practice Makes Perfect

Tim follows in Dick's footsteps and takes up gymnastics

 **Practice Makes Perfect**

* * *

Stepping out of the car, Tim grabbed a hold of Bruce's leg and started to feel nervous. On the ride to the studio Tim had been impatient, urging Bruce to go as fast as possible so they could get there early and meet his new classmates, but standing in front of the large doors he only felt scared. Tim wished Dick could have been here, he'd know just what to say to calm him down, but he was in his own practice. Dick's practice had started a few hours ago and would end soon, but it wouldn't be soon enough for Tim to have a chance to see his older brother before going in the studio.

This was the same studio that Dick had practiced out of when he was Tim's age, the one where he had spent most of his weekends and started competing against other kids in tournaments. Everyone here knew that Dick was the best, they had said as much when Tim and Bruce would come to watch him practice and perform, and now they were going to know Tim too.

It suddenly struck Tim that he probably won't be as good as Dick, that they might not like him, and it made him lose most of his ambition. He stayed in quick pursuit of Bruce hoping that maybe no one would talk to him if he hide well enough.

As they walked through the door, Tim ignored everyone they met. He simply stared at the ground, pretended not to hear any of the remarks sent his way, and tried to keep up with Bruce's large strides as they made their way to the boys studio.

When they finally came to a stop in front of what Tim assumed was his classroom, Bruce asked, "Do you want me to go in with you?" He had been planning on simply sitting among the other spectating parents, but he could see that some were with their children as they introduced themselves to their instructor.

Tim considered what it would look like for him to walk in with his father, but as he saw others take their parents in with him he decided it wouldn't look too bad on his part. "Okay, you can come."

To make up for having his father with him, Tim decided he'd be the one to lead them into the room. They stood in a line waiting to meet the instructor and as they reached the front Tim began nervously fiddling with his hands. Bruce tried to think of ways to turn his attention to anything else, the weather, his new gym shorts, or the tricks Tim wanted to learn, but it didn't seem to work. By the time they were at the front of the line Tim was standing between Bruce's leg and hoping even his instructor wouldn't notice him.

Having seen the same behavior in many other boys, the instructor knew to first addressed the parent until the children were comfortable enough to open up on their own. "Mr. Wayne, it's nice to see you again."

Giving him a kind smile, Bruce returned the greeting. "It's nice to see you too, Derek." Looking around he remarked, "It doesn't look like much has changed around here."

"There's not much improvements to make when you're the best, Mr. Wayne," Derek joked before asking sincerely, "How's Dick doing? I haven't been able to catch up with him since the world championships last month."

Bruce felt Tim move out from behind him at the mention of his older brother and hoped he was feeling a little better knowing Derek was a good friend of Dick's. "He's going to come by in a few minutes to watch Tim's first practice."

Looking down at at Tim, Derek asked, "I'm assuming this is him? Dick's younger brother?"

Tim decided he would be okay to introduce himself to his new teacher if Dick liked him so much. Holding out his hand, he said, "I'm Tim and I'm starting practice today."

"It's nice to meet you, Tim, I'm Derek." He pointed to a corner of the room where many other students were huddled together changing in the proper gear and said, "Go ahead and join the other boys right now. We'll start in a few minutes after I finish saying hello to everyone."

Tim nodded and quickly made his way over only stopping when he realized Bruce wasn't following him. Instead, he was walking towards the door and it took all of five seconds to catch up. "Are you sure you have to go? I'd rather you stayed here with me."

Concerned by the unusual show of nervousness, Bruce reminded him, "Yes, Tim. I have to sit with the other parents outside, remember?"

"But what if I need your help?"

Bruce knew that squatting down to Tim's eye level would look condescending, so he simply put a hand on his shoulder for comfort and said, "Don't worry, I'll won't be far. If you need anything I'll just be a few feet away."

It seemed to be enough as Tim stepped back and watched Bruce exited the room. Tim remembered sitting in on Dick's practices and watching from a one sided window and felt assured that Bruce would be just as attentive as they had been watching Dick. Tim cautiously made his way over the other boys and found a spot far enough from everyone else that they wouldn't bother him.

He set his bag against the wall and sat down beside it as he began untying his shoes.

Inside his bag he found the proper shoes for gymnastics, the ones he had picked out with Alfred a few days ago. They didn't look very comfortable, but Tim watched the other boys to figure out how to put them on properly. Once he thought they were secure enough, he hopped up and tried to walk around and get used to them.

Dick had been right, he should have practiced at home to make sure it wouldn't feel weird using them today. It seemed like some other boys were having the same trouble and they walked around until the shoes loosened up enough for them to be somewhat comfortable.

When they heard the last parent leave the room and the door close behind her, the boys looked up to their instructor expectantly.

"Hello everyone. My name is Derek Keller and I'm going to be your instructor. Because today is going to be our first time meeting, it's going to be pretty relaxed and simple. I want you guys to show me how much you can do right now."

From the back someone asked, "What if we don't know anything? This is my first time."

Derek easily answered, "Then your right where you need to be. This will just be a few tests to see how flexible you guys are and how easily you can move." Motioning for the boys to stand up, he instructed, "I'm going to need you guys to sit in alphabetical order and in specific spots." Picking up a clipboard from his chair and walking to the middle of the room, he added, "When you hear your name walk up to where I am and sit down. This is going to be where you will sit for the next few practices but after I learn everyone's name you can sit wherever you want."

Tim desperately wished they could sit in alphabetical order forever. He didn't want to imagine what it would be like to have to sit by himself if none of the other boys wanted to be his friends.

Around him, the group of boys quickly began to dissipate until it was just him a few others. While he walked over to the last spot, Tim convinced himself that having the last name was a good thing. It meant that he would be able to watch everyone and none of the other boys could see any of the mistakes he made.

Derek stood at the front of the group and instructed, "Stretch out your legs and reach out with your arms as far as they can go. Try to reach your toes with your hands and keep your legs flat on the ground." Just to make sure there was no confusion, Derek showed them the proper form before letting them try themselves.

It didn't take long for Tim to get into position and soon his hands were folded around his toes. He looked around the room to see how everyone else was doing. There were only a handful of people anywhere near as flexible as him and no one who could get reach his toes. Tim felt a surge of excitement with the smile Derek gave him as he walked around taking down a few notes on his clipboards but quickly looked forward to keep in proper position.

"Now make a V with your legs and try to reach out as far as possible."

There was no way of knowing when to finish, but Tim still felt good knowing he could bend his body enough to reach well past the other boys.

There were a few other tests Derek had them do from their positions and soon after a few tests of their agility. They had to sprint from one end of the room to the other, jump as high as possible, and try to do a splits. Some of the other boys were impressive, but Tim still thought he had performed the best. A few of the others even told him so.

Derek took a moment to write down a few numbers before he said, "We're going to see if any of you know tricks now. Can anyone do a cartwheel?"

Tim looked around to see if anyone else had his hand in the air and when he saw two he added his own. Derek motioned for them to step up to the mat and stepped back to give them the room they needed.

No one wanted to be the one to go first and they simply looked at each other before Tim positioned himself at one end of the mat and took a deep breath. He hoped Bruce was paying attention as he threw his arms in the arm and kicked his feet off the ground. Before he knew it, he was on the other side having done three cartwheels and there was a light clap around the room as he stepped off the mat.

Neither of the other boys were as good as Tim, one not able to land properly and the other with a far from perfect form, and he suddenly became all too aware of how everyone was looking at him. Derek didn't act any differently, he had spent enough time around Dick to expect as much from Tim, but the others weren't as subtle. As soon as he took his place against the wall waiting for some clue as to what he should do next, the others began crowding around him.

One of them stepped up and asked, "What's your name?"

"I'm Tim." Remembering his manners, Tim asked, "What's your name?"

"I'm Ricky."

Tim didn't know where the conversation was supposed to go next, so he was glad when the others began introducing themselves too. The names almost came too quickly for him to remember their owners, John, Cameron, Lucas, Scott, Keith, Trevor, Brandon, and Peter, but he had a good memory.

When all of the introductions were said and an awkward silence fell over them, Tim smiled hoping someone would know what to say. He wasn't always the best when it came to social situations.

"Are you related to Dick Wayne? My mom said his little brother would be in this class and you look a lot like him."

He had been hoping the topic wouldn't come up, but he answered, "Yeah, he's my big brother."

"Are you as good as him? Everyone says he's the best."

"Yeah that's why my parents chose to come here."

"Mine too!"

There was a quiet murmuring around the group as they discussed everything they had heard about Dick. Tim sighed and admitted, "No, I don't think so. He's the best." He didn't think anyone could be as good as Dick.

"Does he practice with you?"

Tim didn't like these questions, but he answered, "Sometimes. More now that I'm getting older, but most of the time he practices by himself or with our dad."

Everyone listened intently, wanting to know as much as they could about Tim's family.

Having had all of his questions answered, someone remarked, "My mom says he's so good because your dad can pay for it."

The comment confused Tim, throwing him off for a second as he tried to understand what it meant. It didn't sound like the boy was trying to make him upset, maybe he was just trying to make conversation, but Tim didn't know what he was supposed to say. In the end he admitted, "I don't really know."

Another boy, Tim thought his name was Joey, added, "My dad says he takes a lot of drugs. That your dad makes a lot of secret medicines that makes your brother do gymnastics better than everyone else."

Tim considered about the possibility, but quickly dismissed it. "Dad says we're not allowed to do drugs, that they're illegal and bad for you."

"Not even the good kind? The ones that make you feel better?" Ricky asked.

Realizing his mistake, Tim added, "Only when the doctor or Alfred says we have to."

"Who's Alfred?"

Tim happily answered, "He's our butler and he looks after us when we're sick."

"Your dad doesn't look after you?"

Tim shook his head. This conversation was tiring."He looks after us, but he doesn't know everything. Alfred knows everything."

Keith countered, "My dad says Bruce Wayne is the smartest person in Gotham."

Tim didn't understand why they all talked about his family so much, but he promised, "He's not as smart as Alfred. Alfred's the smartest person in the world. Dad says so all the time."

There was a lull in the conversation until someone asked, "What does a butler do?"

"He looks after our house and makes us food and stuff like that. Mostly he cleans and tells us we're not allowed to eat too much candy because we'll get fat."

There was a little laugh around the group, until someone asked, "Is Bruce Wayne you're real dad? I heard that he made you and your brother in a lab and that you're really part robot and that's why your brother is so good."

Tim flinched back at the question. He tried not to sound mean as he said, "Yes, he's our real dad and we're real too." Mostly to himself, Tim murmured, "I'm not a robot either."

Before anyone could saying anything more, Derek spoke up from across the room. "Anyone have anything else they want to demonstrate? Handstands, vaults, flips? If there's anything you want to show you can." When no one came forward, he added, "It would be great to see just how experienced all of you are so we can better teach you to your skill level."

There was a lot more Tim could do, Dick had taught him as much as he could, but he was all too aware of the eyes on him. The last thing he wanted to do was draw more attention to himself, especially when the last time hadn't turned out so well.

Tim wondered what Bruce was thinking right now. He knew just how well Tim could perform and he would want to know why Tim was staying back. At the very least Tim hoped Bruce couldn't hear anything that the others had said. He would probably be very upset to know that's what everyone thought of him and maybe it would be best if Tim didn't come here anymore.

Derek didn't look perplexed, but he was confused when Tim didn't step up. Dick always loved to show off just how flexible and athletic he was and he had assumed some of that would have rubbed of on Tim.

"Okay, then we only have one more thing to do before the day ends. I just need to take your measurements so we can get your uniforms and everything."

There was a whine across the room as they asked, "We have to wear uniforms?"

"Not everyday. Most practices will be a little like today and you can wear proper gymnastics clothing. Basically if you wear the right shoes, and everyone today is, and clothing that doesn't restrict movements or your figure it'll be fine. At competitions and events you'll be wearing a team uniform so that's basically what we need your measurements for. Also, it's easy to track how you guys grow just so we can see how your progress goes." He motioned towards a corner of the room where there were rulers along the wall and a scale. "It'll only take a minute and when we're done we'll have a closing discussion and you can go out and meet your parents."

Glancing over at the clock while he waited for his turn, Tim realized they had spent over an hour here. Now he got why Dick spent so much time practicing, time really did fly by. He also wondered if Dick was here already, if he was with Bruce watching in on what he was doing. Dick might even have been here to hear what everyone had been saying about him a few minutes ago.

When Derek called his name, Tim stepped up against the ruler and stood still as as Derek wrote down some numbers. Then he held out his arms and tried not to move as Derek used a tape measure to measure his wingspan and waist size and a few other things. It reminded him a lot of the times he had to go with Bruce to get a suit tailored for a special party.

As soon as he got finished, Tim walked back to the crowd of boys and hoped that they were talking about something else. He didn't want to hear what other rumors they had heard about his family.

Tim sat down just in time to hear Trevor say, "I don't know. I think they have a chance of winning."

Keith was exaggerate as he shook his head. "Nope. No way they beat the Knights."

"Their new draft pick might make up for it. Reaper was like the best out of everyone this year."

Keith was still adamant it wouldn't change anything. "It's not going to make up for having LJ, Owens, and Miller on the same team."

Tim vaguely understood that they were talking about football by piecing together everything he had heard Dick and Bruce arguing over. Cautiously, he asked, "Do you think the Knights could be undefeated this year? A lot of people call them the dream team." A lot of people meant Dick and Bruce.

The boys thought deeply before coming similar conclusions.

"It wouldn't be heard for them to win every match."

"I think this season is going to be pretty boring. It'll be too easy."

"If they don't win every one it'll be pretty sad."

Tim smiled at the easy conversation and took a mental note to pay more attention to Dick and Bruce when they talked about football. He didn't want fall behind when they met up with each other again. It wasn't that he hated the game, but he liked to play it online more.

Derek asked them to sit back in their assigned seats before starting. "Ok boys, we're officially done for the day. I hope you had a lot of fun and I can't wait to see you in a few days. Your parents should be outside the door waiting for you and you can go out to see them as soon as you change back into your normal cloths. I'll see you later."

In the sea of goodbyes, Tim rose up from his seat and quickly made his way out. There were a few boys talking to each other as they left the room, but Tim simply tried to search out Bruce. He didn't want to look too anxious to leave, but he was.

There were a lot of parents crowded around the room, but it wasn't hard for him to spot Bruce sitting on a chair on the side. Tim quickly found his way through the adults and saw that Dick was standing beside him and glancing around the crowd to find Tim.

Dick was careful to not crush Tim in an embarrassing hug and asked, "How'd it go, Tim? You looked like you were having fun."

"It was a lot of fun." Leaning in closer to make sure no one would overhear, Tim added, "I think I did the best out of everyone."

"You were the best, Tim," Dick assured before asking, "But how come you only did one cartwheel. Why did you stopped there?"

Tim didn't say anything for a moment, but he eventually admitted, "The others were saying some stuff."

Concerned, Bruce asked, "What were they saying? Should I talk to Derek and their parents about it?"

Shaking his head, Tim explained, "They said that we took drugs and that Dad made us in a lab and we're actually robots. It was weird and I didn't want them to talk about it any more so I decided not to do anything else."

Despite his better senses, Bruce had always hoped his sons wouldn't have to grow up with the same stress he had. Dick hadn't had as much trouble, there wasn't anyone to compare him to, and he imagined it would be harder for Tim. "Don't think about it too much. It's going to happen a lot as you grow older, Tim. People are going to make a lot of assumptions about you and us because we live a different lifestyle from everyone else."

Still frustrated, Tim asked, "Why do they talk about us? They don't have to."

Dick scoffed and explained, "Some people just like gossip, Timmy. You'll get used to it."

"Is everyone in the class going to be talking about me?"

Dick thought back to his own first class and promised, "They'll get used to you in a few days. Right now they just don't like the fact you're better than them."

"How long does it take?"

"I'm not sure, Babybird. It depends on a lot of stuff, but it shouldn't be longer than a few practices."

As always, Tim decided to put his faith in Dick and Bruce . "Okay, but can we go home now? I'm tired."

Dick laughed and told him, "You'll feel like that a lot at first, but you get used to it after a few months."

Tim didn't really think he'd ever get used to it, but he nodded and waited until Bruce carried him out to the car. He didn't even have enough energy to fight Bruce as he fit him into his car seat. Usually he had a lot to say about not needing it anymore because Dick didn't either, but now it didn't seem worth it.

As they watched Bruce turn his attention to the road, Dick turned to Tim and said, "You know, you really are going to like gymnastics."

"I like it more when it's just you and me." When it was just the two of them they could go at their own pace and not worry about being judged.

"Your teammates will get nicer, Timmy," Dick assured him. "They are probably just as nervous as you are."

Tim shook his head. "It's not that. It's just...everyone always talks about how good you are and..."

"They always compare you to me?"

"Yeah."

Dick didn't really know just what to say, but he knew he had to comfort his little brother. "They...they just haven't seen how good you are yet. Once they see just how good you are, they'll stop comparing us."

Turning as much as he could in his chair, Tim asked, "Really? Are you sure?"

Happy that Tim was feeling better, Dick added, "Yeah. Who knows? Maybe they'll even start comparing me to you."


	25. Control

Connor's a good kid, but that doesn't mean Bruce thinks he's good enough for Tim

 **Control**

* * *

Scowling, Bruce looked directly at Dick and hoped the cold look would resonate to the boy just how angry he was. The small group of boys had always had a propensity to ignore orders from their mentors, but this was a step in a whole other direction.

To his left Bruce could see Oliver and Barry giving similar looks to their proteges, crossed arms and brooding frown, but none of it seemed to register with the boys as they stood up straight and waited for someone to speak up first.

Bruce decided he was tired of waiting for them to offer him an explanation on their own and instead he demanded to know, "What were you thinking? You could have gotten seriously hurt."

"We had to help," Dick shot back. He didn't want to come off as too emotional, but at the same time he needed Bruce to stop looking at him like he was a child. The bat already trusted him enough to keep him on board as Robin and that meant he should have some trust in his judgement.

"We did not expect the situation to escalate as much as it did," Kaldur'ahm added in their defense. He was much more diplomatic, not wanting to force any unneeded strain between them, but at the same time he wanted the adults to understand their thinking. "At first it just looked like a simple fire and we felt that it was our duty to-"

"What are you hiding?" Clark cut off. He didn't think they would be making a lot of progress just standing around and it wasn't like they could do anything about the boys' rashness this far into the mess. It wasn't hard for him to see that the boys weren't being fully forward and he wanted to save them from as much trouble as he could.

When the boys looked around among themselves instead of saying anything, Barry sighed before following Clark's eyes and speeding behind the boys to see exactly what they were keeping from the adults. Most of the mentors wanted to get the teenagers home as soon as possible so they could begin working on their punishments.

The league members watched as Barry's eyes widened and the boys tried to come between him and whatever he had found. Quick enough to intercept before the boys could move far enough, Clark flew in and decided to take matters in his own hands.

Despite the teenagers' best efforts, the adults watched as Clark lifted a small boy into the air and held him out at a distance. The two ignored the protests from the group and simply stared at each other before taking notice of the similar symbols on their chests.

The boy turned his head and slowly voiced out, "Su-per-man?" Superboy had been taught everything there was to know about Superman from his time at Cadmus, but he never imagined that he would get to meet the hero anytime soon. When Wally had promised to introduce him to the hero he had thought it would take weeks for it to ever happen, but here he was only seconds after being freed from Cadmus

When Clark nodded, the boy perked up and announced, "I'm Superboy. They made me to be like you."

Not knowing what to expect as Clark simply stared at the boy with wide eyes, Wally stepped up beside him and took Superboy in his own arms. Superboy looked back at the adult confused, but relented and turned his attention to his new friends and wondered what they were going to show him next.

Wally explained, "We found him down in the underground parts of the lab. He was in an incubator sleeping and we broke him out before any of the workers at the lab could catch up to us." Turning his attention to Clark, he added, "He was made to replace you."

Dick found the silence that followed the revelation a little too daunting and in hopes to break some of the tension he said, "Congratulations Supes. You're a father."

* * *

Bruce knew he should have never promised to take the boys to the Kent's farm. The trip had been organized a few weeks in advance, Clark wanting to introduce the boys to his parents and show them how fireworks looked from Smallville instead of a city like Gotham, but a lot had happened in their active lives.

In this case, Clark became a father in the span of a month and a half.

Superboy was apparently a clone that had been created and raised in Cadmus with little to no contact with anything outside of the scientists hired to study him. He had been starved of contact and immediately grew attached to the boys who had saved him and spent most of his time with them around Mount Justice. At first the League hadn't been able to find a proper place to keep him, Clark still confused about whether or not to take him in, and Young Justice decided to induct him in as an honorary member and came back the mountain as much as they could to keep him from getting lonely.

In turn, Bruce spent most of his free time studying the clone to gauge how much of a danger he was. For all they knew this could have just been a plan from Luthor. He wouldn't put it past Luthor to use a child as a weapon, especially if it meant getting Clark to lower his guard even for a little while.

Most of the League had opened up to the kid, even giving him a name and inviting him along to their bonding events. That in particular didn't bother Bruce, it was probably good for him to be watched over by as many heroes as possible, but he would prefer it if the boy didn't grow so close to Tim.

After watching over the boy for a few weeks, Bruce was willing to admit Connor might not be an enemy, but he most definitely wasn't safe for kids. At the very least he wasn't safe enough for Bruce to consider ever leaving him alone with Tim. The others might think it endearing whenever the boy accidentally broke something or wasn't able to control his powers, but Bruce saw it as a liability. He knew from first hand experience just how dangerous a Kryptonian could be and he wasn't going to gamble his son's safety with a still emotional superhuman unable to control his super strength.

Bruce didn't act any differently towards the boy, he was sharp and curt with everyone outside of his family, but Bruce still prefered to keep him at an arm's length.

Tim was of a different opinion. He had almost immediately made Connor his best friend and spent any moment he could following him around the mountain. Every night Tim would come home and inform Bruce about everything he had learned about Connor, his favorite shows, his favorite colors, his favorite foods, and his favorite heroes, before asking if they would be able to visit him the next day. For the past few days Bruce had been able to avoid any meetings with the two by explaining that he would be moving in with Clark and they would probably want to spend sometime alone, but now there no excuse. Clark had invited them to spend Independence Day in Smallville a few months ago and it was too late for Bruce to find an excuse for them to drop out.

Now Clark was giving the three a tour of the barn and introducing them to all of the animals the family kept on the farm. Connor had already been given the tour a few days ago, but he wanted to accompany Tim 'just because.'

Bruce scowled at the barn from his seat on the back porch of the Kent household. Almost sensing the negative energy from Bruce, Dick stepped out from the barn and sat down in the empty chair beside him. For a while neither did anything about the silence, Bruce staring at the barn and Dick looking back between the two of them and laughing to himself as if he knew everything in the world.

"You look too upset to be on a vacation," Dick finally remarked. Although Bruce's natural state was brooding, he usually made an effort to look happy around the Kents.

"This isn't a vacation."

"Why not?"

"Vacations are supposed to be relaxing." Bruce knew he was using circular reasoning, but he also knew Dick wouldn't notice it.

"Tim seems to think this is pretty relaxing, but to be fair he's just happy to spend time around his best friend."

Deciding to ignore the boy, Bruce continued to watch the barn from the distance and wait for indications that his son was okay. It felt like every second he couldn't hear him laughing was a possibility something had gone wrong and Tim was hurt. The only thing that kept him from stepping into the barn and watching over the tour was the fact he knew Clark wouldn't let anything happen.

When the boys finally came out and began chasing eachother around the field as Clark's dog followed, Bruce let out a sigh of relief and ignored Dick's raised eyebrow. With Clark coming up to the porch to sit beside them with his regular annoying boy scout smile, the three watched as the boys simply went about their time doing nothing on the back yard before it became dark outside and they were called in for dinner.

Around the dinner table Bruce watched the two snicker among themselves as the adults talked about other things. Bruce discussed the sports with Martha and Jonathan while Clark and Dick talked about the newest video games Clark had in his apartment. From the side of his eye Bruce watched as Connor took his spoon and began bending it for Tim's amusement. Soon enough it escalated to other things and Connor reshaped his cup into broken shards of glass when he used a little too much of his super strength.

All too suddenly the cup exploded in his hand and glass and water showered the two. To his benefit, Connor seemed worried for Tim, but Bruce was faster in lifting Tim onto the table and making sure nothing pierced the skin. The others were quick to clean up the mess, Connor doing his best to make up for causing it, but Bruce took Tim for a bath just to be sure. The ten year old was frustrated at him for ruining the fun and was quick to run out back to the others as soon as he was clean and safe from the mess.

From their room Bruce could hear the boys laughing around the house as they waited for Clark to take them to the best vantage point for seeing the fireworks, but Bruce decided he'd rather stay back and keep John and Martha company. They were getting too old to go out this late and Bruce wasn't too fond of fireworks anyway.

It was late in the night when the others finally made their way back home. The Kents had already gone to bed, but Bruce stayed up to wait for the boys and finish working on some reports. Seeing that the lights had been turned off, they made sure not to make too much noise as they snuck in and traded goodbyes. Bruce listened in from his room as they planned out who would be with whom and tried to act too relieved when Tim looked in the door to see if he was already in bed.

Not wanting to make too much noise, Tim slowly closed the door behind him and whispered, "Can I sleep with you?"

Clearing off the bed to make room, Bruce assured him, "Of course, sport. You know I always sleep better when you are there to give me some company."

Smiling, Tim promised, "I'd tell you about everything we did, but I'm a little tired right now. I'll tell you in the morning."

As they got in bed, Bruce remarked, "I thought you might decide to spend the night with Connor." He didn't like the fact he was starting to feel jealous about a boy mentally a third of his age, but if there was one thing Bruce had a lot of it was pride.

Tim gave him a confused look back at the door in the direction Bruce imagined Connor was before turning back to him and asking, "You want me to sleep with Connor? I think he likes spending more time with Uncle Clark. They are starting to get to know each other very well."

"No, I was just saying that you two are getting really close," Bruce quickly cleared up. The last thing he wanted was Tim spending more time with the clone.

Crawling up on the bed, Tim found room and said, "Yeah he's my best friend." He thought Bruce would have figured out enough by now, he was usually that smart.

"You like spending time around him?" Bruce asked already knowing the answer.

Smiling a little to himself as he found a comfortable position, Tim answered, "He's a lot of fun. He's so strong, Dad. He can fly, hold his breath forever, and listen from very far away. Connor can do anything."

Not wanting to say anything that Tim would take the wrong way, Bruce turned on the nightlight and switched off the lights before settling in beside the boy. If he had to admit it, the boy was nice enough, an almost carbon copy of what he imagined a childhood Clark would have been like, and he could see why Tim was so drawn to him.

Before he could say anything, Tim asked, "You want to know a secret, Dad?"

"Sure, what is it?" It had to be important for Tim's cheeks to flush so brightly.

Unable to look Bruce in the eye, Tim began playing with the fringes of the pillow as he said, "I'm going to marry Connor someday. Uncle Clark says we're not old enough to get married right now, but Dick says we can do it when we're older. We're going to get married and live together forever."

From across the house Bruce was sure he could hear Clark chuckling underneath his breath, but he tried to keep his attention on Tim. Bruce almost felt sorry for Clark, he had only been a father for a month before he had to deal with relationship problems, but in the end this was all his fault. If he'd only listened one of the many times everyone tried to warn him about how dangerous Luthor could be they wouldn't be in this mess.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Tim?"

"You didn't say anything."

"I'm sorry, Tim it's just you caught me off guard."

Tim considered the explanation before remembering, "Uncle Clark said that too. He also said that we're very mature for our age and he can't wait for our wedding." Unsure, Tim peeked up at Bruce and asked, "Do you want to come too? It's going to be a lot of fun."

"Of course I'll come, Timothy. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Tim gave him a small smile before looking down at his pillow. The smile left his face for a moment as he added, "Connor said you would be upset. He said you don't like him and you wouldn't like us getting married later."

Taking Tim into his arms, Bruce let them sit in silence for a while before assuring him, "I like Connor. He's a good boy and you two get along well, but it's a little dangerous with him being this young. He just doesn't know how to control himself just yet and I just want to make sure he doesn't accidentally hurt you."

Tim could see Bruce's argument, but he still warned, "You make Connor feel bad and he's going to be my husband so you have to start being nice to him."

"I promise, Tim. I'll make sure to be nicer from now on."

While he had Bruce in the position, Tim added, "You have to say sorry too. He feels bad and if you said sorry he'll feel better."

Turning on his back so they could get some sleep, Bruce promised, "I'll do anything you want, Timmy."


	26. Panic

Bruce and Dick love each other, but sometimes it didn't always come through and sometimes Tim was stuck in the middle

 **Panic**

* * *

Tim's eyes bulged as he watched Dick speed up to the school's driveway. He had been expecting Bruce to be the one to pick him up after work, but this was a pleasant enough surprise. It was certainly more exciting for Tim's friends who were excited at the chance of touching the shiny motorcycle.

Saying a quick goodbye to everyone else, Tim rushed over to Dick and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I can't come by to pick up my little brother from his last day of school?"

"You could have told me before."

"It wouldn't have been such as a good surprise if I told you beforehand."

Tim considered what he said for a moment before asking, "Does this mean I'm not getting the new game I asked for?"

Tapping the inside pocket of his jacket, Dick asked, "I guess it depends on how lunch goes doesn't it?"

Tim dug through where he knew Dick kept his spare helmet and said, "Lunch was hours ago." Examining it in his hands and wondering how often Dick cleaned it, he added, "We're closer to dinner than we are dinner."

"That's the kind of talking that leads the video game you wanted staying with me."

"Why are we going out to lunch? I thought Alfred had something planned at home."

Glancing around to examine the other cars coming up to pick up the remaining kids, Dick said, "We should hurry up. Bruce might not like me stealing you away."

"You didn't tell Bruce about this? Why not?"

"Because I knew he wouldn't like it."

Pushing his bag into the same compartment he took the helmet out of, Tim asked, "How come all of your surprises usually end up with one or both of us getting in trouble." There was a list Tim was keeping on his laptop and he planned on presenting them to Dick when he was fifty and still trying to get them to upset Bruce.

"And a lot of good stories." There was a car that looked a little too familiar and increasingly worried, Dick asked, "Are you ready?"

Throwing his leg across the seat and making sure his helmet was secure once again, Tim asked, "Is it really all that bad if Bruce sees us? It's just a lunch and we're going straight home after. Right?"

"Of course we are. But you never really know what to expect from Bruce."

"I know you always complain about me being to distant with him, but you're not really any better."

Not dignifying that with a response, Dick faced forwards and began slowly making his way down the driveway. They were really cutting it close in getting out of here and he didn't want to waste any more just being gawked at by Tim's friends. "Keep your mouth closed, Babybird. I don't need you filling up on bugs."

* * *

Dick straightened up his jacket and tried to smooth out his hair while he waited for Tim to get off the phone. It had only taken Bruce a few minutes before he started blowing up his phone demanding to know where he was going without any warning and just why Tim had given him any warning beforehand. Tim was trying his best to calm him down with the promise that they would be back home in a few hours.

Watching him through the reflection in the glass, Dick frowned at his position. He knew how to read Tim, that the furrowed shoulders and constant running of his hand through his hair meant he was worried and stressed, on edge and afraid of saying the wrong if it meant upsetting Bruce. Dick had seen it enough times when he'd watch over Tim and his father and he was hoping to never have him feel that bad again.

Once the call ended, Tim approached Dick and offered him his phone back. "Like I said, Bruce is upset we didn't tell him beforehand. I hope the 15 minutes of secrecy we had in getting here was worth it, Dick."

"It was, Timmy. It didn't give Bruce a chance to talk us out of it."

Tim sighed and tried to look on the bright side. "Hopefully this means I can convince Bruce to get me a phone when we get home."

"You're eleven, Tim." Dick said holding out the door. "What do you need a cellphone for?"

"So I can avoid situations like this and absolve myself of any guilt." As they were ushered to their reserved seats, Tim noted, "Most of the time you end up having to charm the person up front into giving us a good table."

Dick dropped into his chair and said, "You really shouldn't be afraid of using your name and good looks, Timmy."

Cheeks blushing at the comment, he countered, "You don't. Our name I mean. You don't use it to get things you want." Tim knew Dick didn't like using Bruce's last name to get better treatment, it made him feel cheap. He added, "It's not even my name yet."

"It will be in a few days, right? That's what Alfred told me the last time we talked." There hadn't been a lot of talk between them, everyone knew that Tim liked to keep some parts of his life private, but they kept themselves updated on his state just in case.

Tim stared blankly at the menu in his hands as he waited for the waitress to leave before asking, "Do you think Bruce wants me to take his name? I know it means a lot to him."

"What? Why would you need to ask that?"

Playing with the corners of the menu, Tim admitted, "It's just...I don't really know." Shaking his head, he tried to get their conversation back on track. "This isn't why you brought me out here. What's the surprise anyway?"

Dick frowned. "Tim, I think this is a little more important." When Tim only shook his head and pretended to be entranced in the menu, Dick tried again. "If this has anything to do with your family...Bruce loves you, Tim. He wants a chance to be your father and changing your name is only a small part of that. If you don't want to, it's not that big of a deal and I'm sure he wouldn't be offended."

Tim was quick to assure him, "I know that, Dick. Believe me. I know he loves me, but I don't know..."

Looking around to make sure no one was close enough to eavesdrop on them, Dick sighed and said, "Bruce isn't anything like your parents, Tim. He's nothing like that and he won't ever be."

When Tim didn't say anything in response, Dick asked, "Can you give me some more details, Babybird? I'd like to help." He hated himself for not seeing the trouble Tim was in, but he wanted to make as much progress as he could before things got even worst. "Are you having panic attacks again?"

Tim shook his head. "Leslie gave me some medicine the first time I saw her, but she said it's risky to stay on them for too long. I've stopped taking them a week ago I think. It's just been a little hard to adjust and I've been feeling a little more anxious than usual."

Dick knew Tim had a pattern of underplaying his own feelings, but he also knew Tim wouldn't appreciate him being forced into a conversation he wasn't ready for or comfortable with. "So that surprise I mentioned, are you ready for it?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"I'm taking up a new job. I'm going to become a police officer. I start at the academy in a few weeks, but you and I know I'm going to breeze through everything they throw at me so it's almost as good as done."

There was a quiet moment between the two of them while they waited for the other to do something, but eventually Tim had to ask, "Does this mean...your night job? What happens with that?"

"Don't worry about that, Tim. I'm not giving up on that."

"Are you sure about this? It's probably going to be a lot of work hiding your secret." Tim knew the Dick would have to spend at work would be taken out of the time they usually spent together. "Gordon's going to work you thin."

Dick very evenly said, "I'm not planning on working for the GCPD."

"What? They're the only police in Gotham, right?" Tim didn't know a lot about criminal justice, his family went a different route, but he was mostly sure he had that part right.

"I'm thinking about moving to Blüdhaven, Tim. They need help a lot more there." While he was preparing for the conversation Dick had memorized a few crime statistics to use as weight on his side, but it didn't feel like Tim needed them right now.

Doing the math in his head, Tim asked, "You're not even going to patrol in Gotham are you? That would mean having to drive like 2 hours every time just with the commute. You wouldn't have a lot of time for the patrol and if it's a rough night you wouldn't be in any state to drive for an hour." He looked Dick in the eye and asked, "You're still going to drop by every now and then right? Just to drop by, no business."

"Of course, Tim. I couldn't stand it if I didn't get to see you."

Considering they had already made so much emotional progress, Tim decided to ask a risky question. "This doesn't have anything to do with me taking over the mantel right?"

"Of course not, Babybird. I can't wait to see you take over as...you know. I just need some space and a chance to build my own identity. I think Blüdhaven would be good for that."

They didn't talk about the move as they ordered their food, but once they had some privacy Tim asked, "Have you already picked out an apartment?"

"What?"

"An apartment," Tim repeated. Squinting his eyes, he explained, "You know, a building where many people live in their own sections. A lot like a house, but without as much responsibility."

"Cute. I haven't picked out anything, but there are some I'm interested in." He honestly didn't know what to look for in a place. In Gotham he knew the best parts of the city and where to avoid but now he was going off of information online and word of mouth.

Tim thought about his schedule and said, "I can't come this weekend, I have a lot to catch up on tomorrow, but next weekend I'm free."

"Free for what?"

"To look at apartments, Dick. Keep up."

"Really?" The conversation really wasn't going as Dick had planned, but he was happy Tim was taking it so well. "You want to come with?"

"Let's be honest, Dick. I can't expect you to be the one to always making the trip. I'll drop by just as often as you do in Gotham. Plus you have questionable decision making skills."

"I seemed to have picked out a pretty good little brother." A little more serious he added, "Our movie nights will have to end. We probably won't be able to see each other once a week."

"Haven't you heard of Netflix and Skype old man? The only difference will be the size of the mess you leave behind."

Leaning back in his chair, Dick countered, "How are you planning on making it to Blüdhaven in the first place, little boy?"

* * *

Walking up the steps to the manor, Dick asked, "What are planning on doing over the summer? Anything special planned?"

"I mean, if you're as good as you think at picking out gifts then I'm going to be playing a video game all summer?"

Stopping in front of the door, Dick pulled the neatly wrapped package and said, "You can go up to your room and thank me later. Just remember how good I am at gifts when you're looking for something for my birthday."

"My birthday's before yours."

"That doesn't mean anything. I know you have a good memory."

Considering the gift in his hands, Tim asked, "Don't you want to come up with me? We could start playing together." He stopped for a moment before making sure, "This game does have multiplayer, right?"

"Yes and I'd love to. I have to take care of some things before I'll join you upstairs."

Repeating his thanks for the present, Tim ran up to his room while Dick hunted down Bruce. He really did want to be done with this as soon as possible.

Once he found Bruce in his office looking at some business on his laptop, Dick immediately took the seat across from him and apologized. "I'm sorry I didn't give you any warning on taking Tim out for lunch."

Bruce didn't look up, but he said, "I had my own surprise planned, Dick. I was going to take him to a animal shelter and have him pick out a puppy. He's been asking for one for awhile and I thought he deserved it."

Dick felt a little guilty about ruining Bruce's plan, but he asked, "You'll be able to do it tomorrow, right?"

"Probably, but I don't like it when things are sprung up on me without any warning, Dick." At the stiffening of Dick's shoulders, he realized, "I'm not going to like what you have to say, am I?"

"I'm taking up a new job." Bruce didn't look upset, just surprised at the idea of Dick working while in school, but Dick was sure he heard a part of the desk splinter when he added, "I'm going to be a cop in Blüdhaven. The academy starts in a few weeks and I'm going to be in the next class."

Bruce demanded to know, "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be serious?"

"The fact that you've never had a real job, Dick. Any work you've done has had to do with being a hero and you're learning to take over the business. What's going to happen with college?"

Dick knew the hardest part would be convincing Bruce about the next part. "There's no reason for me to stay in college. Tim can take over the business, he's a lot better suited for it than I am, and I really think I could do a lot of good as a cop."

"You plan on having me pay for everything until then right? Your apartment, your food, gas. I'll have to pay for it while you go through the academy and in a few months you're going to come back and say you don't think being a cop is for you and you need me to pay for law school."

Holding himself back from saying something too insulting, Dick said, "Don't do that, Bruce. Don't make me feel bad about changing my mind."

"Why a cop?" Bruce asked. "Why not something else?"

"It gives me more of an opportunity to help people."

"We do that on patrol."

"I know, but...I need a chance to do this, Bruce." Dick knew he wasn't being very articulate, but he hoped his resolution would be enough to convince Bruce of his decision.

"Why, Dick?" Crossing his hands on the table, he demanded, "Convince me that you aren't ruining your life on a whim."

"You know what, I don't think I'll be able to." Dick exclaimed, "This is something I came up with on my own and you hate that."

"What?"

"You love being in charge of my life, of everyone's lives. You hate the fact I came up with this on my own because this just proves you can't control us forever."

"I'm responsible for you, Dick. That means I have to tell you when you screw up too."

Dick sarcastically laughed and said, "Just because I'm moving off of the carrier path you set out for me doesn't mean I'm screwing up my life."

Bruce stood up and stormed around the office before asking, "Why not a doctor? They help people too." Before Dick could come up with an answer, Bruce said, "Never mind. I already know. It's too much of a dedication, right?"

Dick stood up almost eye level to him and countered, "What's wrong with being a cop, Bruce? It's what I want to do."

"You and I both know most of the cops in this city are crooked. Blüdhaven even more so."

"This is my opportunity to change it," Dick said resolutely. He had made up his mind weeks in advance and he wasn't letting Bruce convince him otherwise, but did want to know, "What is your problem, Bruce? What's the problem with me being a cop?"

"You're going to fail at this, Dick."

Before Dick could think of something to say to that, they both heard something hit the floor outside the office. Neither of them knew what to expect, but once Dick thought back to the conversation he had with Tim at the restaurant he ran out without any explanation. He found Tim on the ground, head between his knees as he tried to drown out the shouting from inside the office.

When Bruce caught sight of him in the distressed state he asked, "Are you okay, Tim? What's wrong?"

Knowing Tim was nowhere in the state to respond, Dick answered for him. "He's been having a hard time recently." He quickly instructed, "Go find Alfred. He has some experience with panic attacks and he'll probably help him feel better than we could."

As Bruce ran out to find him, Dick sat down against the wall and gave Tim a quiet moment to catch his breath. He knew it had been the arguing that had pushed him over the edge and this was a chance for him to enjoy the silence.

It only took Tim a few seconds to calm himself down, he did have some experience with the matter, and when he peeked up to look at him Dick asked, "How are you feeling?"

"A little better."

Dick sighed at his defeated voice and said, "I'm sorry about that, Timmy. I didn't mean for it to get that bad. It just got out of hand."

Not wanting to talk about that anymore, Tim asked, "Can you help me-" Grabbing onto Dick's shirt, Tim said, "I was going to ask you to help me up, not carry me to my room."

Dick admitted, "I know, but sometimes I just can't help myself."

As soon as he didn't find the two in the hallway, Bruce rushed to Tim's room and asked, "Are you feeling okay? Dick mentioned something about a panic attack. I thought those stopped months ago."

Tim was quick to assure him, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed a second to cool down."

Not believing him, Bruce said, "Alfred's going to look over you while I run out and get your medicine. It might have been a little too early to take you off."

"I don't need them, Bruce. I promise I'll look after myself better."

"Master Tim, I must insist that at least I do an examination." Alfred knew the compromise would be enough to satisfy them. The very last thing he wanted was for any serious signs to pass with anyone noticing.

Tim thought for a moment before agreeing that it was probably the best plan available.

Bruce patted Dick on back and motioned for him to meet him in the hallway. "We can talk about this later, Dick. Right now I'm going to need you to go and pull out the car while I grab something from my office."

"Are you sure we should be leaving right now? Tim probably wants the company right now."

"Trust me, Dick."

* * *

Looking around the room, Dick moaned, "You can't expect me to pick, Bruce. I just don't have it in me."

"Why not? Just find the one Tim would like the most." He'd pick by himself, but Bruce didn't think he would be able to gauge what Tim was interested in. In many ways Dick was a lot like a ten year old.

Dick let a dog lick his finger through the cage and decided, "Tim would be having just as much trouble picking out a dog."

Bruce considered their options for a moment before asking, "Which one looks the happiest? It's job is basically to make Tim happy, so I guess that's something we can go off on."

Looking back to the puppy whose tail hadn't stopped bouncing since they walked into the kennel, Dick picked it up and asked the attendant, "How big is he going to get?" He knew Tim wanted a large dog he'd be able to play rough with in the backyard.

"He's a samoyed so he's going to grow to about two feet tall." She held her hand up to just below her waistline, but Dick was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

Laughing as he tried to keep the puppy away from his mouth, Dick asked, "Are they always this excited? It doesn't look like he's ever going to calm down."

"They're pretty much always like this. They're always smiling."

Dick gave the dog a chance to get to know Bruce and asked, "What do you think? Would Tim like him?"

"I think so." Not wanting to waste any more time, Bruce asked for the adoption forms while Dick tried to tire the pup enough for it to sit still long enough for the ride home.

Only when they walked into the manor did Bruce realize he had forgotten to run the idea by Alfred. Dick was able to hold back on commenting on the irony as he tried to keep the pup from leaping out of his arms every time they walked into a new room.

The two of them shared a nod before Bruce knocked on Tim's door and waited for a sign to go in. He left the door open just enough for Dick to hear their conversation before taking a seat on the couch. "How are you doing, sport? Feeling better?"

Looking back from the video game he was playing on his television, Tim said, "Yeah, I feel a lot better, Bruce. It really wasn't that big of a deal and I know how to calm myself down afterwards."

"That's good. What game is this?"

"It's something new Dick game me. It was my present for the last day of school."

Feigning embarrassment, Bruce said, "I'm sorry, Tim. I forgot to get you something. I didn't realize your first day of the summer was so tomorrow."

"That's okay, Bruce." The last thing Tim wanted was for Bruce to feel bad about forgetting to get him a present. Considering everything that had happened today that was the least of their worries.

"Could you turn off the game for a second, Tim?" Patting a spot beside him on bed he said solemnly, "I'd like to talk to you about something and I need your full attention."

As Tim turned away from the wall facing the door and put his full attention on Bruce, Dick slowly walked into the room. The puppy had long since stopped trying to fit out of Dick's arms and he stayed silent as he tried to locate the newest scent in the room. Dick softly set the puppy behind Tim on the bed and walked out of the room before he could notice him. Deciding he really liked the newest scent, the dog began poking at Tim with his nose.

Shocked by the feeling, Tim jumped off the bed fast enough to scare the puppy in return. He decided against jumping off the bed onto the ground and instead walked over to Tim's pillows.

Looking between Bruce and the dog, Tim asked, "What's going on? Is this real?"

Bruce softly explained, "I had been planning on taking you to the shelter to pick out a dog for yourself, but Dick found you first." A little more serious, he added, "I'm sorry you had to hear that, Tim, and I'm sorry I didn't notice that things were starting to get bad."

Tim didn't say anything as he walked back to the bed and tried to get the dog's attention, but when he sat down and had the puppy crawling all over him he as an excuse not to look at Bruce Tim said, "I don't really know what came over me. It just felt a lot like my parents." He quickly added, "I know you aren't anything like them, but it just felt a lot like it."

Moving closer to the two, Bruce stressed, "I don't want you to ever feel like that again, Tim. If it ever gets hard for you I need you to come and find me as soon as possible." Looking down at the puppy biting at Tim's fingers Bruce realized he had the perfect metaphor. "You'd want your puppy to find you if he was ever hurt, right?"

Feigning curiosity, Tim asked, "Remember when you told Alfred you wanted to be Batman, was he as upset as you were today?"

It wasn't hard for Bruce to see what he was doing. Instead of giving Bruce a chance to come up with an answer, Tim assured him, "It's okay, Dick doesn't have to know I'm your favorite."


	27. Getting Older

Dick couldn't let Tim go on without enjoying Christmas as it was meant to be

 **Getting Older**

* * *

Dick peaked up from his bed as he heard shuffling outside his room. It didn't take him long to figure out the footsteps belonged to Tim, they were too light to belong to anyone else, but he was still curious about what his little brother could possibly want so late into the night. Usually Tim was passed out and lost to the world by now.

The steps didn't stop as soon as they reached his door and Dick could tell that Tim was nervously pacing in front of his room to try to convince himself to knock on the door. Dick knew Tim could be there for a long time, he'd done it before when he'd first moved in with Bruce, so he opened the door for Tim and asked, "Can I help you with something, Tim?"

Tim wasn't able to come up with an answer and instead rushed forward to wrap his arms around Dick in a bear hug. Now more worried than anything, Dick closed the door and carried Tim towards the bed as he asked, "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Still unable to come up with an answer, Tim simply held onto Dick as they laid on the bed. It took him a few minutes and even then he ignored the question to chastise himself. "I'm getting too old for this, Dick."

"Too old for what?" Dick couldn't imagine his brother being too old for anything, he was only just starting preschool and still one of the smallest in the class.

"Having to come to you," Tim said with frustration. "I'm three now, Dick. I'm almost four. I shouldn't have to come crying to you."

"I don't mind, Timmy. It's my job to help you and you're definitely not too old to come to my room." Leaning down as if he was sharing a secret, Dick admitted, "Sometimes I still go to Bruce when I'm upset."

"Really?" Tim was astounded at the thought of his older brother needing anyone's help considering how much older he was. To him Dick always seemed like the kind of person who could do everything on his own.

"Yup. All the time."

Tim looked down as he contemplated what he'd just heard. To be extra sure that he wasn't being lied to, Tim asked, "You're not just saying that to make me feel better better?"

"Nope. Sometimes I get angry or sad or something like that and I'll go to Bruce's room so he can help." Seeing the thoughtful look on Tim's face, Dick tried again to get to the root of the problem. "What's wrong, Timmy? You can tell me anything."

"It's just something that happened in school."

A little more serious at the thought of something going wrong, Dick asked, "Was someone being mean to you?"

"No, but we were learning about Christmas." Shuddering at the thought, Tim explained, "We had to listen to songs and draw pictures and everything like that."

At the pause in Tim's explanation, Dick asked, "Did someone not like your pictures?" He really didn't understand what would make Tim so upset about Christmas.

"No, Dick. They all loved my drawings. I used glitter and everything." Tim knew Dick had seen his drawings before, he'd even said they were the best he'd ever seen, so he didn't understand why he thought someone could have an issue with them.

Dick realized he'd never be able to guess the issue on his own and asked, "So what's the problem?"

"When we were listening to the songs..." Starting over with a deep sigh, Tim explained, "There's a man called Santa. He's always watching us, Dick. He sees everything, when we're sleeping or bad, and he goes into everyone's house. He breaks in while we're sleeping."

"Timmy..."

Tim sat up on the bed to stress, "He knows, Dick. He knows everything."

Astounded, Dick asked, "Is this your first time hearing about Santa? You've never heard about him before?"

"No." Tim sounded as if he was on the verge of tears. He'd come to Dick for his help, but he was more interested in why Tim didn't already know about it. "Should I have? Should I have known about him before?"

"Who do you think leaves the presents under the trees?"

Deflating, Tim recalled, "I wasn't allowed to have trees. Mother said they would leave a mess and father said they were a waste of money." It hadn't bothered Tim too much, he wasn't allowed to watch christmas movies anyway so he didn't have anything to compare it to, but now Dick seemed to think he was strange for it.

"Who do you think leaves the presents? Where do you keep the presents?" Dick couldn't imagine celebrating christmas without Santa and presents.

"The nanny was supposed to go find a present and leave it in my room for when I woke up. They said I'm too old for lights and trees and decorations and things like that,"

It suddenly dawned on Dick just why Tim was so in the dark about christmas traditions. He'd never really been able to celebrate it with his parents and now Dick was making him feel worse about it. Not wanting to mess up anymore, Dick said, "I think I should get Bruce. He'll know what to do."

Grabbing onto Dick's arm before he could even think of moving off of the bed, Tim whispered, "No! You can't tell him, Dick." Leaning into Dick's ear and cupping his mouth with his free hand in hopes of preventing anyone from being able to read his lips, Tim explained, "Santa's going to know that you told him and when they fight he's going to already know everything about B."

Trying not to laugh at the idea of Bruce fighting Santa, Dick assured Tim, "Batman isn't going to fight Santa, Tim. That's never going to happen."

"Why not, Dick?"

Dick wanted to say it was because Santa wasn't real, but he masterfully diverted the conversation. "Because...didn't you pay attention to the whole song, Tim?"

"Yeah and he's very creepy," Tim said sounding frustrated. He had imagined a lot happening in the hours since he'd learned about Santa, but he never imagined Dick would actually be defending him.

"Well, he's a good guy." Deciding a comparison to something Tim already knew would be best, Dick added, "He's sort of like a hero except he doesn't fight the bad people. He just rewards good people."

"Then why does he have to see everything we do, Dick? He should just leave us alone." To Tim it was an invasion of their privacy pure and simple.

Trying to find the best way to explain the situation to Tim, Dick said, "It's a little complicated, Tim, but the short version is that he needs to know who's good and who's bad. That way he can give presents to the good people and avoid the bad people. This way he also knows what kind of presents people want. He's the one that leaves the presents under the christmas tree."

Tim silently considered the explanation before asking, "He's really not a bad person?"

"Nope. He's a pretty great person actually." Not wanting to leave his brother with any doubt, Dick added, "If we asked Bruce he'd say the same thing." He knew Tim looked up to Bruce as if he'd hung the sun and moon just for him and his acceptance of Santa would mean everything to him.

"Really? He really likes him?"

"Yup. He even lets Santa come in and leave the presents under the christmas tree we're going to get in a few days."

Now more excited, Tim asked, "Do you think we can meet Santa, Dick? When he comes in to leave the presents can we talk to him?"

"We can ask Bruce. Sometimes Santa comes down to the mall in Gotham and sometimes if you stay awake long enough you can see him coming down the chimney."

Stepping off the bed, Tim said, "I want to see him, Dick. I'm gonna go tell Bruce that we have to go."

Getting back into position on the bed, Dick watched as Tim excitedly tried to put on his shoes and called out, "Ask him about christmas cards. I think he'll let you pick out how we dress if you ask him."


	28. Transitions

Bruce always knew he wouldn't be able to keep Tim in Gotham forever, but transitions can still be pretty hard

 **Transitions**

* * *

Bruce watched Tim finish up on his morning workout on the training mat and dummy in the cave and tried not to show just how worried he was. The boy was in excellent shape, peak condition for someone his age, height, and weight, and had been trained by the best fighters in the world. Bruce knew he would be able to deal with joining the Titans.

While Bruce might not like to admit it to himself, it somehow felt fitting for Tim to branch out to a team. He himself had the Justice League and Dick was already the leader of the Titans so it was only fair that Tim got to join. Bruce had already seen the wonders the Titans did for Dick, helping him reach out to people more relatable to him and build trusting relationships with people he could count on showing up to help at a moment's notice. Tim didn't have any problem socializing, he made friends just as easily as Dick did, but Bruce knew it wouldn't kill him not to have someone he could talk more openly about their nightlife with.

Distance hadn't been a problem Bruce had seen them experiencing before, but in the weeks since Tim had been formally adopted he could feel the boy drawing away from him. It was only making Bruce feel more unsure about Tim joining the team, thinking that maybe there were some issues he wasn't paying enough attention to. In the past Bruce had been blissfully unaware of the incredible stress on the boy and the effect it had on his anxiety, but he also knew Tim wasn't fond of him being too cautious around him.

In the end all that Bruce was able to do was keep updated while doing his best not to seem too embedding. He'd been able to find the roster Dick had on who they were going to allow into the team. There were only a few teenagers the Titans trusted enough, Tim being one of them, but Bruce did have some concerns with a few of the new members.

Bart was a nice boy, Bruce had never seen him as much of a threat, but he was prone to making mistakes, many, many mistakes. It might have been because of his inexperienced with their time, but Bruce couldn't just ignore the issue because Tim liked him. It also bothered him that there weren't any proper safety measures they had against speedsters. With Kryptonians it was easy and readily accessible, but with the speedsters there was little Bruce could do to prevent them from going rogue, even less Tim could do. He would definitely need to increase Tim's training on how to fight speedsters.

The one person Bruce had the most issue with was Connor. While Bart might not have been able to control the mess he made, Connor seemed to revel in it. He liked being the 'bad boy' of the group and was prone to acting as such. The greatest threat for Bruce came from his lineage. Clark was fine, although Bruce would never actually tell him that, but the fact that Connor was the son of Lex Luthor of all people posed a real problem. It had already happened once where the boy had been compromised and Bruce was still not over the time he'd broken Tim's arm.

It didn't help that Tim was so close to Connor. It had been hard on Bruce when Dick had pointed out why his little brother might have been so interested in the clone and it only caused Bruce's worry to spike ever since. It had only gotten worse since Clark had finally taken the boy under his wing because it only took a few weeks for them to see some real improvement. Now Bruce was left with no real excuse for why the pairing bothered him so much except for the everlasting worry in his gut Clark's father had said was just the feeling of being a father.

As the thud of Tim's attacks on the dummy died done, Bruce turned his attention back on the boy as he gathered his bag and began moving to the cave showers. Seeing Bruce's eyes on him, Tim smiled and said, "I'll only be a few minutes. I just need to shower and then I'll be on my way out."

"You don't have to rush. I can drive you to school." Bruce knew it was about time he tried to fight against the distance Tim was pushing between them. The boy was going to be joining a team within the end of the week and Bruce wanted to make sure they were being forward with one another. Driving him to school would just be the first step.

"Are you sure? I can take the bus or if you have someplace you need to be..."

"It makes sense for me to drive you. You're going to be living here permanently and I'll be driving you around so there's no reason to hold it off. Your school isn't too far from my school and this way no one can bother you while you park the car. It'll make things easier for you."

Although he didn't sound pleased, Tim said, "Okay sure."

Bruce gave him a grunt to acknowledge that he'd heard him and as soon as Tim was no longer in his view pulled up the footage from outside the manor's gates. There was a frenzy of reporters and photographers waiting to catch a glimpse of the new Wayne.

It had started earlier last week when Tim's adoption was leaked to the press. Now there were photographers everywhere they went. It made simply leaving the house become a chore. There was little the police could do as they weren't impeding on their privacy, but Batman and Nightwing had been able to scare most of them from from crossing any red lines.

Hearing the faucet of the shower shut off, Bruce closed the live footage and grabbed his own briefcase to make sure he had the paperwork he would need for the day.

Tim walked out looking silly with his wet and messy hair contrasting with the clean and pristine school uniform and Bruce chuckled to himself before throwing a towel in his direction. "You don't want anyone to see your uniform soaking from your hair."

Happily accepting the towel, Tim quickly ran it through his hair before asking, "Are there still people outside?"

"I'm sorry sport, but I don't think we'll be able to get out unseen." Bruce knew Tim wanted to have some privacy, he hated being too public, but it didn't seem possible right now.

"That's okay," Tim shrugged. I'll have to get used to it at some point."

"I'll pull up the car into the driveway and you can meet me in a few minutes."

Looking through their garage, Bruce found the car with the darkest windows, the car the family used the most, and slowly drove it out to the front of the house. He didn't have to wait long before Tim opened the passenger side door and collapsed on the seat.

Bruce slowly drove the driveway, he said, "You might want to put your hide your face when we have to pass the gate. There's going to be a lot of photographers."

Tim looked around for something to cover his head before deciding, "I can use my jacket until we pass them."

"That should be fine," Bruce agreed.

As they waited for the gate to open they could hear the excitement and clicks of the camera. Even when they saw that Tim was hiding his face with his jacket covering his head they continued to harass the two of them while asking embarrassing questions hoping to get a rise out of Bruce.

Once they were finally passed the crowd Bruce gave Tim the all clear to put his head up and assured him, "They'll get bored soon as move onto someone else soon enough."

Tim was skeptical as he said, "They've started hanging around the school. It's not that big of a deal because I'm indoors most of the time, but still..."

Looking back between Tim and the road, Bruce asked, "Do you think too much is happening at the same time? That you have too much on your plate?"

"What do you mean?" Tim felt like he sort of knew what Bruce wanted to say, but he wasn't entirely sure.

"With you joining the Titans, getting adopted, and having to deal with all the media at the same time. It wouldn't be a big deal if you wanted to wait before joining the team, Tim. It'll definitely give you some room to breath." Bruce's first concern was always Tim's well being and he didn't want his son to spread himself too thin.

"I don't like the photographers, but I'm willing to accept them if it means I can be your son."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't know, B. I think you might be the one nervous about too much happening at the same time."

Bruce didn't quite know what to say about that, but he looked at the road while he tried to figure it out. "Tim, you now I want you to join the team and have fun with your friends -"

"It sounds like there's a 'but' coming," Tim said hoping he was wrong, but years of experience told him otherwise.

"But, I don't know if this is the time."

"What are you worried about?" Before Bruce could give him an answer, Tim quickly added, "Are you afraid that I'm going to get hurt?"

"It's going to be the first time I won't be there to look over you, Tim."

"I've spent weekends with Dick in Blüdhaven before, sometimes longer," Tim tried to reason.

"Dick isn't always going to be there either." Sighing, Bruce explained, "I know you should get a chance to be independent and spend more time with your friends, but I want to make sure the proper safeguards are there to prevent you from getting hurt. You are going to be the only new member of the team that isn't a meta."

Bruce had taught Tim enough detective skills to figure out, "You're worried that I'm piling too much on my plate and it's going to get my anxiety back up. We just finalized the adoption, people aren't going to be letting up on me anytime soon, and you still aren't sure about Kon and the others."

"I trust Connor and I know he'd never try to hurt anyone on the team, but I'm not sure how you're going to act as a team. It's a lot harder than just hanging around playing video games." Bruce was trying to keep from sounding too condescending, but the crinkle in Tim's nose told him he wasn't doing too well of a job.

"Dick's going to be there, Bruce. He's not going to let me get bad and I know you've probably talked to him about keeping you updated on how I'm doing."

Bruce could see that he was losing the argument so he decided to ask the question he felt was most pertinent. "Tim, do you think you've been trying to keep too much distance between us since the adoption was finalized. That it made you feel the need to compare me to your father." At the shocked look on Tim's face, Bruce reminded him, "I'm the one who taught you how to be a detective, Tim."

Tim shifted his gaze to his shoes and mumbled, "Maybe. I guess it's possible."

Bruce added, "I think you and I haven't been very forward with each other, Tim, and that's going to need to change for when join the Titans."

Deciding that lying wouldn't help either of them, Tim admitted, "It feels weird defining our relationship. Before it was that you and I were close, a clash of mentor, friend, and friend, but now you're officially my dad and I don't know how to feel about that."

"You haven't had a great relationship with your paternal figures before, a horrible one to say the least, but I'm not them, Tim," He wouldn't mind repeating it a thousand times if that was what it took for Tim to understand, but he desperately wanted him to understand.

"I know that and I trust you more than I've trusted anyone, but..." Letting out a sarcastic laugh, Tim realized, "I guess I really haven't been acting normally."

"That's okay. This isn't a normal situation and we aren't normal people."

"I know." As they drew closer to the school Tim knew their conversation would have to end soon and he'd need to brace for the photographers. Hoping his sincerity was clear, Tim said, "I really want to do this, Bruce. I think I'm ready to join the team and I trust my friends and brother to look out for me."

"I think as long as we are both forward with each other, honest when something bothers us, even when it might lead to an unpleasant conversation, we'll be fine." Even as he said it Bruce knew it would be hard; he and Tim were not the kind of people who found it easy to express themselves.


	29. Irrational

Bruce knew Tim was still learning the ropes of how to be a proper Robin and sometimes that meant acting irrationally

 **Irrational**

* * *

Bruce watched it all happen in slow motion. Tim aimed a leg sweep at the man in front of him, three others already on the ground surrounding them, before running off to catch one of the men trying to get away.

Remembering where they had seen the parked car, Robin attacked a grappling hook to the building across the street and disappeared from Bruce's line of sight. He wanted to run after him, this was only the fifth time he had been out as Robin, but he had to attend to the criminals scattered around the ground to see if he could get any information.

That was his plan until he heard a gunshot from the direction Tim had flown off in and dropped everything to follow. He was sure Dick was saying something in his ear, that he would go see if he could get any information out of the goons Bruce was leaving behind, but it wouldn't surprise him if it was just figment of his imagination. Bruce wasn't sure he'd be able to hear anything through the loud ringing of the gunshot still barreling through his head, but he followed the sound until it was drowned out by the smell of blood.

Just below where he was standing on top of a building he could see three figures, two shaken, probably by the gravity of what they had just done, and another slouched down behind a pile of empty boxes. With complete disregard to the former, Batman leaped down the building to tend to the latter.

From what he could immediately tell there were no major injuries, but he didn't want to risk it as he scrunched down beside Robin and began checking his vitals.

It looked like the bullet had only grazed his arm, maybe trying to disarm him before he could throw any birdarangs, and the wound wasn't deep. The kevlar had taken most of the damage, but Tim wasn't going to like experiencing what it felt like to have a bullet taken out of his body.

The most damage seemed to be to Tim's ears as he was having a hard time paying attention to what Batman was asking. Tinnitus was something one only got used to through experience and Bruce was willing to bet a lot of money that this was the first time Tim had experienced a gun being fired so close to his ears.

Even with the assurance that there was nothing to be worried about, Bruce sent Dick a message to wrap up as soon as possible and lifted Tim onto his shoulder to carry him home. If the boy was in any proper state he would have argued at the position, hating the fact he had to be carried at all, but he was still too disoriented to form the proper words.

The BatMobile found them soon enough and Bruce was able to lower Tim into the passenger seat before figuring out the closest route back to the cave where Alfred was waiting to treat Tim.

As his tinnitus began clearing up, Tim began to feel more and more anxious about the lecture he was surely going to receive when Bruce didn't' have anything to distract him otherwise. Right now it was only his need to pay attention to the road and get home as fast as possible that was keeping Bruce from blowing up and Tim sincerely hoped that Alfred and Dick would be in the cave to maybe defend him.

He knew he'd screwed up, the constant ringing made it obvious and the closer they got to the cave the more pain he felt from the bullet still resting in his arm. His adrenaline was wearing off, but he'd rather focus on the pain than the strained look on Bruce's face.

Getting out of the car was more awkward than getting in as Bruce and Tim had completely different opinions as to how properly equipped Tim was to carry himself to the medical bay. In the end Bruce still won and carried most of Tim's weight before dropping into the chair and taking off the destroyed pieces of armor surrounding the wound.

Aware of the direction the situation was going to take as soon as he was finished cleaning up the wound, Alfred ordered Bruce to get changed and bring leftovers for Tim in hopes that it would give Tim enough time to catch his breath before Bruce knocked it out of him.

By the time Bruce came back Tim was drowsy from the medication Alfred had given him, they both knew it was because he didn't want Tim to remember what would be happening next, and he set the food on the table beside the boy before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Tim was shocked by the calm tone of the question and he easily answered, "I feel fine. It hurts like a mofo, but I'm sure I'll be back to normal before long."

Bruce nodded, happy to hear that Tim was feeling okay, and quickly changed his tone to stern anger as he asked, "Have you lost your damn mind!? You could have died. A few more inches up and to the left and that would have been it."

It might have been the medicine Alfred had given him or the fact he was close to falling asleep, but Tim gave Bruce an apology without any struggle. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again, Bruce. I learned my lesson about acting outside of training."

"That's great, Tim, but I want to know why you did it in the first place. Why would you do something that stupid. It's disappointing seeing you act like this."

Trying to remember exactly why he'd acted as irrational as he had, Tim explained, "I just thought I should try to catch them. They were the leaders and it had been their plan so they would have the most information to give us."

"They would also have the best weapons. The kind that can penetrate kevlar." At Tim's inability to look up at him, Bruce sighed before adding, "You're very lucky they didn't have good aim, Tim. Miraculously lucky."

"I know, Bruce. I messed up and got hot headed and it could have gotten other people hurt,"

"It got you hurt, Tim. That's what matters. It got you hurt and it could have been avoided."

Tim looked at the ground as he repeated, "I'm sorry, Bruce. I really am."

Bruce sighed. He knew Tim was sincere and he also knew there wasn't much more he could expect from him right now. Instead he decided to surprise him by saying, "Outside of the last three minutes or so you did great. You're moving much more efficiently, your moves are landing more proper hits than before, and it takes you half the time to drop your enemy to the ground. That's a lot of improvement for such a small window of time."

Looking up at Bruce shocked by the praise, Tim decided a smile was the least he could do in return.

"It's getting late now, Tim. I know Alfred won't be a fan of me keeping you up any longer so I'll help you back to your room and we can practice more with guns when you heal."

Moving Tim up the flight of stairs to his room was comparable to trying to move jello, but soon enough he was in his nightclothes and on the border between awake and asleep. He had just enough energy to watch Bruce move around his room and to say, "I'm sorry I messed up the mission today, B. It won't happen again."

Tapping him on the head like he remembered doing Dick when he was hurt, Bruce smiled and said, "Yes it will, it'll probably happen a lot over the next few months, but the important thing is that you're alright."


	30. Trust

This was Tim's job. Bruce had already told him he didn't trust anyone else to do this

 **Trust**

* * *

While Bruce typed away at his laptop urgently working to get an assignment done one time, Tim sat behind him staring out of the window. To Gotham thunderstorms were a common occurrence, it always felt like the city was recovering from a flood, and Tim enjoyed looking down at the small people going about their regular business as if they weren't drenched to their toes. People were getting something to eat from the food carts on the side of the road and others were fighting over who would get the taxi and Tim was enjoying every minute of it.

He wasn't supposed to be in the building, he was technically sick and that was the reason he couldn't go to school right now, but he'd been able to convince Bruce that making him stay in the Manor all day would have only made him more sick. Alfred seemed to agree because he packed Tim a healthy lunch and left Bruce some of his medicine.

Bruce had expected Tim to fall asleep on the couch in his office, but instead he was walking around the office and trying to get Bruce's attention thinking they would be spending the whole day playing together. He was not impressed to find out Bruce didn't keep any toys in his office, not even building blocks or cars, so Tim was trying to get him to take him around the rest of the building. There had to be something that he could play with.

Once simply looking at the scene outside the window started to bore Tim, he pulled on Bruce's suit and asked, "Can we go outside?"

"Outside this room or outside outside?" Bruce asked even though he didn't turn away from his laptop. Either way he knew his answer would be no.

Tim tried to think about what he wanted and decided, "Outside outside." He wanted to play in the rain as he was used to doing in the Manor and see just how high he could splash the water in the puddles.

"Sorry sport, but if you go outside you're going to get even more sick. Rain isn't good for you right now."

Accepting that Bruce probably knew more about the subject than him, Tim changed his mind and asked, "Then can we walk outside this room? Like around the building and stuff?"

"I'm sorry, Tim, but I have a lot of work to do."

Remembering the puppy dog eyes Dick had taught him, Tim assured Bruce, "You don't need to work. We have enough money, Dad. You can take a break and we can go for a walk."

Smiling at the sight of Tim trying to use the same technique he was growing an immunity to, Bruce tried to reason with him. "The reason we have the money is because I'm always working, Tim. If I don't keep on working then we might not have the money." He hated how anytime he was able to bring his kids to his workplace there was always something that needed his attention. Why couldn't they be here on most days when there wasn't anything for him to do but pretend that he was working.

Frustrated, Tim decided to do the next best thing and asked, "Can I help you with your work? It'll make it go by a lot faster." He was used to helping Dick with his chores if it meant they would be to play together earlier. Sometime's he'd do it just for Dick to get him some of the snacks he couldn't reach or because his brother asked him to.

"Do you know anything about vectors and calculus, Tim?" Although he looked forward to the day when he would be able to delegate his work to his son, Bruce knew he was nowhere near ready right now.

Tim mumbled a quiet, "No," before saying, "You can teach me though. You always say I'm very smart."

"All of my employees have been studying for years to work on this project, Tim. I'm sorry but there isn't really anything for you to do right now."

Dramatically collapsing on the ground, Tim contemplated his options and asked, "I can't play on your laptop? I could watch a video while you're working."

"There's information on that laptop I need to bring down to the lab, Tim. You can't keep it up here."

"I can't come with you either?" This day was just getting worse and worse. Tim might have been better off at school where he would be able to see his friends.

"No, Tim. It's very dangerous down there." The group would be working on building a new vaccine and Bruce didn't want Tim to accidentally bring in his germs or even worse come into contact with something inside the lab.

"Fine," Tim said deflated. He hoped Bruce could hear the sadness in his voice as he turned back around and said, "I'll watch out the window until we go home."

Bruce wanted to focus on his work and take Tim home as soon as possible, but he found himself saying, "Actually, Tim, there's something I need you to do."

"What is it?" He didn't sound like he trusted Bruce, he'd just been let down by him, but was curious enough to ignore the feeling.

Turning away from his laptop to give Tim his full attention, Bruce whispered, "You have to promise to keep it a secret, Tim. No one can know about this."

Tim gasped at what he thought was sincerity and whispered back, "I promise, Bruce. I won't tell anyone." Whatever Bruce needed him to do had to be important if it warrantied them talking in low voices.

"Are you sure, Tim? I know how you like to talk." Feigning contemplation, Bruce said, "Maybe I shouldn't have you do this." By now Bruce knew how to bait his children and telling them they might not be old enough to do something only made them want to do it more.

Grabbing a hold of Bruce's hand so he could see his sincerity, Tim assured him, "You can trust me, Dad. I won't tell. I really won't."

Bruce sighed and didn't do anything for a moment to keep Tim anxious before asking, "You remember where the break room is? The one we passed on our way here?"

Tim thought back to the tour Bruce had given him and remembered, "It's the one were everyone was talking and laughing and it smelled very nice."

Nodding, Bruce explained, "Because today is Friday there are donuts on the counter. How about you go grab a donut and bring it down to the lab for me? You could see a few things very quickly and then come back up here to watch your videos."

Tim decided it would be better than simply sitting around and quickly made his way from behind Bruce's desk to show Bruce just how determined he was. "I think I can do it, Dad. I'll bring you a donut and coffee."

Bruce knew it would be enough of a distraction to keep Tim at bay long enough for him to prepare the lab for a visitor, but he still added, "You're the only one I trust, Tim. No one else can do this for me." He knew there was nothing that energized Tim like hearing about a mission only he could do.

Tim felt a rush of pride before he promised, "I won't let you down, Dad," and walking outside of the office. Knowing that he couldn't run in the building, he didn't want all of his father's employees to think he was immature, Tim quickly walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the floor just below them.

Once Bruce saw Tim disappear behind the elevator doors, he looked down to his secretary and asked, "Are you doing anything urgent right now, Carly?"

"I'm just making sure you didn't miss any meetings today."

"Did I?" Although he was used to not going to meetings when things came up, he was actually hoping to get on top of everything today. Even for him there were somethings he simply couldn't miss.

Carly smiled and said, "You've actually been a good boy today, Mr. Wayne. You haven't missed anything so far." She was used to taking over for her boss every time he fell short on his appointments, but it definitely made her life easier when he stayed on track.

Bruce hummed in acknowledgement before saying, "I need you to clear my schedule for tomorrow. If there's nothing important then I'd rather stay home and make sure Tim's feeling better."

"No problem, Mr. Wayne."

"I also need you to go down to the break room and try to keep Tim distracted for as long as possible."

"Any particular reason?" It was a part of her job to look after Bruce's sons when he was too busy with work, but it was usually something as simple as watching over them as they messed with their toys.

"I didn't bring any of his toys and he's been getting pretty anxious for something to do so I sent him down. I just need to keep him out of the lab long enough to transfer all the important files to the lab computers. Tim will be able to sit in my office and watch shows on it instead."

"Can't he just watch something on the thousands of other laptops in this building. I know it's pretty retro, but we do have a tv."

Bruce explained, "My laptop has the controls to keep him from watching anything that isn't age appropriate. He's watched Walking Dead after Dick left it open about five times now and each time I have to deal with his nightmares."

Although her lips curled despite her best efforts, she managed to keep from laughing as she stood up and said, "I'll make sure he stays safe, Mr. Wayne."

Following him down to the break room, she found Tim standing in the hallway staring at the doorway anxiously.

Unaware that this was simply a distraction, Tim cautiously looked into the room to see if he could find the donuts. He regretted promising to get Bruce some coffee too, he realized he didn't know how to make it, but this was something Bruce had trusted him with and he couldn't let him down. It would be best if he could go in and out without anyone seeing him, but all eyes were on him as soon as he walked into the room.

He hoped his cheeks weren't as red as they felt, but he didn't know what to do as the room got silent and people looked at him all at once.

Once he finally reached the box of what he could only assume was full of donuts, Tim realized he wasn't tall enough to reach it and it would be rude to start climbing around. He had heard Bruce chastise Dick for it enough.

Before he could think of anything to say, a familiar woman walked into the room and whispered something to the rest of the group before turning to him and asking, "Do you need any help, Timothy?"

Tim knew Carly was nice, she would have to be if Bruce hired here, but Tim also knew to keep his mission as secretive as he could. He simply answered, "I need a donut."

Smiling at Tim hoping to ease some of his concerns she introduced herself as she found a napkin to carry the donut in. "Do you need something else, Tim?"

Deciding it would be best to have someone else do the things he couldn't, Tim explained, "I don't know how to make coffee."

"That's okay kiddo. I can get it for you."

She signaled for him to take a seat at the table, but Tim was anxious, shaking his leg as he tried to relieve himself of the stress that came with knowing he might have given too much away to strangers. If this was his mission no one should have had to be helping him.

They were able to convince Tim to eat a donut and tried to get him to laugh with a few of their jokes while waiting for the coffee to finish, but as soon as it was done Tim was ready to barrel out of the room and down to the lab. Before they could let him go out on his own, they made sure to tape down the lid to the cup so none of the hot drink would splash onto his hand and to remind him to be careful. None of them wanted to see what would happen if Tim somehow got hurt due to their negligence.

As soon as he had the directions to the lab figured out, Tim rushed down hopeful that he hadn't been too long. It would be embarrassing if Bruce had found someone else to get him his donut and coffee.

Tim was able to spot his father immediately, he was the largest one in the room, but unsure of how to enter the room. Bruce wasn't in the main lab and instead he was with a few scientists looking down at the others who were working. Unlike the scientists working on chemicals and solution and with important looking equipment and material, Bruce wasn't wearing any safety gear and Tim didn't think it would be a problem if he walked in but he didn't want to be wrong.

Instead he knocked on the glass window until he had Bruce's attention. Bruce stepped away from the group and grabbed a bag from an otherwise empty table before walking out to greet Tim. "How'd everything go, sport? It took you awhile to get here."

"I don't know how to make coffee, Dad. Someone else had to do it." Leaning in to prevent anyone from overhearing, Tim added, "I didn't tell anyone about my mission. I kept it a secret even though a lot of people asked." People hadn't asked, they already knew everything from Bruce's secretary, but Tim felt like Bruce needed to think he had the resolve to keep secrets if need be.

Bruce took the coffee and donut before handing Tim his bag and saying, "I have a reward for you too. You can go up to my room and watch your videos, but make sure not to bother anyone who's working, okay?" Taking a sip of the coffee, Bruce added, "You did a very good job and deserve the reward."

Deciding this could just be another mission in a day filled with hard work, Tim assured Bruce he'd follow his orders and keep himself entertained. "I can do that, Dad. If you need me to, I can do it."

Patting his head, Bruce assured Tim, "I know, sport, and I'm very proud of you." Before he turned away to head back to the office, Bruce caught sight of the flush of Tim's cheeks and added, "You did very well on your first project, Tim. I might just have to keep you around the office more," just to see it get deeper as he walked away.


	31. Make Me

Tim tries to overreach and Dick gives him just what he was asking for

 **Make Me**

* * *

Squatting behind a gargoyle facing the police station, Dick scanned the horizon for any suspicious movement. Bruce was on the far part of the city trying to get more intel on Penguin's newest hideout so he was all alone in the mid city. Well, he was supposed to be patrolling alone but he'd been trained well enough to know when someone was following him. It hadn't taken him long to sense the irregular movement and the telltale sound of someone following him.

Just out of his eyeline Dick say something move and tried to focus in on who or what it could be. In the months when he had first become Robin he was used to having his senses overreact to cats and mice that had somehow found their way on the roofs of buildings, but he felt like this time he was right to be on guard. He didn't want to take any chances.

He stayed low enough to not be spotted and tried to edge himself closer to where he had seen the movement before he heard a crash from down below. There wasn't anything he could spot from his position on the roof, definitely no large figure, and by the time Dick looked back up he heard someone land behind him.

Grabbing a hold of his escrima sticks and spinning around to face his opponent, Dick found a cheeky Robin pointing a heavily modified gun towards him. "Comms off Wing. I already turned mine off and we don't want B to hear this."

Dick let his sticks drop by his feet as he turned off the comm link in his ear and held his hands up in surrender. Even though he knew it was useless he warned Tim, "You don't want to do this, Babybird. You're going to regret it." Dick knew he would do anything he could to make Tim regret doing this.

Tim scoffed and said, "You just don't want to admit I was able to sneak up on you."

Trying to think of a compromise as he edged himself backwards towards the end of the roof, Dick asked, "Is there anything I could do to make you change your mind?"

"Nope. This is how we get even." Tim brought the gun up to his face and aligned it to the symbol on Dick's chest before pulling the trigger and hoping something had landed on him. He hadn't had any practice with guns yet, Batman didn't like using them, and he was mostly going off of the experience he had gained in the past week.

Dick took Tim getting into position as his sign to try and make a break for it and tried to jump off towards the alley beneath him. Even as he leaped into the air he felt something come into contact with his hip. It disoriented him enough to ruin his landing, but as he looked up from his position in the dumpster he could see Tim looking down at him trying to see if he had hit his mark.

They both zeroed in on a streak of blue and green paint on Dick's hip and Dick groaned while Tim cheered. He called down, "I'm going to win this, Nightwing. This puts me in the lead."

Checking to make sure nothing was hurt in his less than stellar landing, Dick warned, "I wouldn't be too sure, Rob. A lot can happen in the next week and I have more than enough time to make up some ground."

Before he could stand up and get back to patrol, maybe regain some of his pride, Dick felt another paintball come into contact with his chestplate and threw up a glare to the teenager above him.

"Get on my level, Wing."

"Stop it, Rob. You're only going to make my revenge worse for you." Even now Dick was imagining all the possible ways he could get back at Tim without inciting any of Bruce's rage. There was a thin line with what he was allowed to do to torment his little brother, but he was willing to milk it for all it was worth.

Not at all wary of the threat, Tim shot again but missed by a few inches and instead shot the lid of the dumpster.

Hearing the muttered curse from above, Dick mocked and said, "You have great aim, Robin. I'm pretty impressed with how much you're improving."

"Hey, I've already landed three hits just in the past minute. That's three more than you have done," Tim said in his defense. "If I'm a bad marksman it's because I have a bad teacher."

Finally feeling well enough to stand up, Dick asked, "How about you drop down that gun and we'll see just how much I can land on you?"

Raising an eyebrow Tim asked, "How about you come here and make me?"

Reaching for the grappling hook on his belt, Dick shot back, "I just might."

Tim took that as his cue to turn back and disappeared from Dick's eyeline for all of five seconds before he was on the roof trying to scout out Robin's bright colors. Not for the first time he hated the fact that Tim had changed the cape from yellow to black, but he was able to make out enough of his breathing to slowly and quietly circle around his way onto the same roof as him. Tim was laying on the ground against the concrete lining along the roof trying to make himself as invisible as possible and he still hadn't noticed that Dick was watching him from behind the air conditioning vent. Following his eyeline he could see that Tim expected him to sneak up on him from the left as it would have given him the most height. He might have come from that direction if he didn't know Tim was expecting him to. The gun was sitting beside him on the ground, Tim probably didn't want to have it hold him down if he needed a quick escape, and it gave Dick the perfect opportunity to make up some more ground in their competition.

Dick reached into the compartment on his hip and threw a smoke grenade as fast as he could before running into the smoke and grabbing a hold of the gun and looking to see where Tim was planning going.

To his surprise Tim didn't immediately try for cover and instead ran as fast as he could away from Dick. He could tell he was running in the direction of Bruce and probably hoping that he would stop their little game and prevent Dick from catching up to Tim's score. Not wanting to let that happen, Dick aimed the gun and landed his first shot on Tim's foot and was able to disorient him enough to gain some more ground and tackle him down.

Once they were finished wrestling and Dick was secure in holding Tim down, he asked, "Well, what do you have to say now little brother? Anything smug to tell me?"

Trying to wiggle out of the hold, Tim gasped, "You need to lose weight, Wing. It feels like I have Cinderblock sitting on my chest."

Dick hummed in consideration before grazing Tim's shoulder with a paint ball and saying, "We're tied now, Robin. You wanna see how much ground I can make up before we have to get home."

"No," Tim said honestly. "I'd rather you get off me."

Considering where to land his next shot, Dick said, "Well too bad, Babybird. You asked me to do this."

"I'll get you back. You won't be expecting it, but I will," Tim said after another failed struggle.

"Only after I paint you with everything in this gun."

"There's probably like two pellets left."

Patting a space on his hip, Dick asmirked and said, "It's a good thing I forgot to take the spare out of my belt from our last run in."


	32. Freak

To some people Dick will always be the circus freak Bruce Wayne is trying to tame and sometimes Dick isn't able to keep what people say about him from getting to his head

 **Freak**

* * *

Dick stared into the mirror and tried to think of anything he could do to make himself look more presentable. He wanted to look like he could be Bruce Wayne's son, but right now all he looked like was a circus boy trying to make himself look fancy enough to attend a gala with Gotham's elite.

The suit was uncomfortable, too restricting and heavier than the clothes he liked to wear, and his shoes were far more irritable than the sneakers he usually wore, but he hoped he was passable enough that people wouldn't say anything.

Alfred didn't seem to have anything to say about how he looked, Dick knew Alfred would never let him walk out the Manor if he thought he wasn't presentable, so he decided to stand by the front door and wait for Bruce to get ready.

After checking to make sure Dick's tie was tight enough to not come undone as the night went on, Alfred explained, "Master Bruce should only be a few more minutes Master Dick. He just wanted to get some work done before he had to leave for the night."

"I understand Alfie. I'm used to this by now."

Walking out to the kitchen he groaned, "Aren't we all, Master Dick?" Dick knew he was probably going to finish up on the dinner he and Tim would be having pretty soon and Dick hoped he'd be able to sneak up some leftovers to his room once they came back.

He ended up having to wait for fifteen minutes before he heard Bruce's footsteps coming down the stairs and rushed out so they could leave as soon as possible. Right now he was in a strange middle ground where he couldn't do anything interesting because he had no idea how much time he would have and he couldn't do anything too boring because he ended up just worrying more about how the night would go. Dick just mindlessly watched different things on the tv to keep him from stepping back in front of the mirror and making sure he was presentable.

Following Bruce as he went to the kitchen to say goodbye to Alfred, Dick asked, "Are you ready, B? Anything else we have to do?"

"I'm all set to go. Sorry for the wait, but I wanted to make some progress before we left."

Smirking, Dick said, "You wanted to get far enough in the case so you had something to distract you when things get boring." Dick was planning on doing the same with the show he'd been watching.

Grabbing the keys from the countertop Bruce laughed and said, "You know me so well."

"Isn't Alfred going to drive?" Dick didn't really care, but Alfred was usually able to get the night to end earlier than either of them could. None of the other guests were willing to fight with him when he said it was time to go, but when Bruce said anything it was endless begging for him to stay a few minutes longer or go down to an apartment in the city instead of making the trip all the way back to Bristol.

"I don't want Tim to be here alone. We're going to get back pretty late and it wouldn't be a good idea to leave him here by himself."

Dick hummed his understanding before following Bruce down to his car and asking, "How long do you really think this could last?" Sometimes Bruce would be back from these events after two hours and sometimes it would be five or six hours.

"I wouldn't expect to be back till at least one in the morning, Dick. Is that going to be a problem?" It was the middle of the summer so there wasn't much Bruce expected Dick to have to do, definitely nothing to do with his schoolwork.

Secretly wishing for some criminal to come in and crash the event, Dick assured Bruce, "Nah, I'm fine."

During the ride over he couldn't do anything but catch glimpses of himself in the side mirror of the car and adjust his hair accordingly. He always joked about how much hair gel some of the kids at school wore, but now he understood. After fifteen years with amazing hair, today had to be the day where it decided to act out and all Dick could do was will it back to its place.

Not at all oblivious to the change in behavior, Bruce asked, "Are you sure you're fine? You look a little nervous."

Hoping his deception skills were getting better, Dick said, "It's the first time I'm going to be at something this important."

"You've been to important events before. It was practically your whole winter break last year." Bruce could remember him complaining enough.

"I know but it just feels more important."

Bruce knew he wouldn't be able to get much more information out of him so he decided to leave him with the assurance that, "You've always been amazing at every fundraiser, gala, dinner, party, and event I've brought you to, Dick. Everyone has nothing but praise for you."

Dick hadn't expected anything else from Bruce, he always said anything he thought could make Dick feel better, so he decided to be a little more discreet with his checks in the mirror. Even then he could see Bruce's lip thinning every time he adjusted his hair or jacket.

They didn't say anything about it for the rest of the trip but Bruce made sure to whisper some more assurances into Dick's ear as they walked up to the ballroom of the governor's house and through the flashes of the press cordoned off to the front of the building. Dick could see that Bruce wanted to stick close to him and make sure he was feeling well, but soon enough people started to gather around him like vultures hoping to get some private time and there was nothing either of them could do.

Dick looked out into the crowd and spotted a few of his classmates, not really friends but people he had class with, and decided to make his way over. It would be better than having to spend the rest of the night by himself.

One of the boys, Joyce, went with the usual greetings before saying, "We didn't know you were going to be here, Grayson."

Dick couldn't say the same about them, they were the reason he'd been so nervous about the night, but he laughed and said, "I don't think there was anything I could do to convince Bruce not to bring me along."

Chris nodded sympathetically and said, "I bet these things are hard for you."

Dick creased his eyebrows and asked louder than necessary, "Excuse me?" the other boys seemed just as shocked that Chris had said anything and a few heads from nearby also turned to see what this conversation was leading to.

"I'm sorry, Grayson, I shouldn't have said anything."

"But you did."

Chris looked around to his friends hoping someone would save him from the awkwardness of the conversation and eventually Joyce broke and said, "It's just...there were just some jokes going around that Chris took too seriously."

Crossing him arms, Dick asked, "What jokes?" He'd heard some things but he wanted them to say it outloud and prove his ideas right or wrong.

Joyce took a deep sigh and admitted, "Some people were just saying you wouldn't like being stuck in a suit for so long and might break out into some tricks or something. It was nothing serious, but you're always leaping around in school and people thought you might do something here too."

"I do acrobatics in gym, Joyce, not in the middle of class," Dick said exasperated.

"I know, but some of the others got jealous and you've always said you love being in the air so the idea kind of stuck. Chris was just being an idiot."

He didn't say anything for a few moments as the others around him waited to see how he would react and he only said, "I changed my last name. It's Wayne now, not Grayson," before stepping away from the group.

Dick knew none of them wanted to insult Bruce Wayne's son and were trying to cover their own asses in case this ended up hurting their parents' relationship with Bruce and his friends and he couldn't see them saving that conversation anytime soon. Knowing he wasn't going to be able to make the situation any better he simply decided to spend the rest of his time listening to the ramblings of some of the more senile guests to the party. A few of them were the reason Dick and Tim stopped trying to sneak down to the parties Bruce threw in the manor because they learned way too much about what happened to some people's feet during World War II.

He was able to spend most of the night sitting down with a few of the elderly as they told him about their business and political endeavours and was able to avoid any hard topics for the most part. By the end of the night he had somehow ended up talking to Mary Crowley, a woman incredibly interested in acrobatics and hoping to get some advice from someone skilled from the day he was born.

As soon as she got him to sit down next to him she said, "I've heard that you can do some amazing things in the air."

Wanting to save some face from the rumor's he'd heard a few hours ago, Dick tried to convince her, "It's mostly just rumors, Mrs. Crowley. A lot of exaggeration." It wasn't true, but hopefully she would move onto something else.

"Are you sure, Francis?" She didn't look like she'd believed him and was ready to fight on it. "My daughter had a lot to say about you."

Laughing and hoping she would drop the subject, he'd long forgotten trying to get her to learn his real name, Dick said, "I'm pretty sure, Mrs. Crowley. A lot people exaggerate the whole thing."

Mrs. Crowley didn't believe him and she had no problem looking around the hall and calling out, "Bruce. Bruce. Bruce.," and motioning for him to come over once she had his attention.

He looked confused about what they could possibly have an issue with, but he dutifully dismissed himself from his conversation and pulled out a seat.

Looking between them, Bruce asked, "Is something the matter?"

Pointing to Dick accusingly and with little regard for the people looking at them, Mary said, "This young man, your son, was just telling me he's not interested in gymnastics."

Confused, Bruce turned to him and asked, "What are you talking about, Dick?"

"I wouldn't call him that, Bruce, but it did shock me and I had to make sure this wasn't one of those pranks."

More focused on Dick than anything she was saying, Bruce asked, "Do you not like gymnastics or acrobatics anymore?" He didn't want to be too overbearing so he was quick to add, "It's not a problem with me if you have a new hobby, but you didn't tell me you'd changed your mind."

There was a smack on his shoulder as Mary chastised, "You should be more involved with his life, Bruce. How can you call yourself his father and not know what he's interested in?"

It was one of the few times Dick had seen Bruce so confused out in public and the quiet murmuring around them didn't help. More embarrassed than he'd been in his entire life, Dick asked, "Can we go home?" Most people had either already left or were waiting for the valet to bring their car out front so it wouldn't be too scandalous for them to leave now.

Bruce nodded and said a quick goodbye to the others at the table before following Dick out and hoping his son was ignoring the whispers that were following him as they exited the building. He gave the valet some money to give them the keys instead of pulling out the car for them and got away from the crowd and press as fast as possible.

As they were on the road and away from anyone who could possibly eavesdrop, Bruce asked, "What happened, Dick? What was all of that about? I know you love acrobatics you were practicing and showing off yesterday."

Dick knew there was no reason to lie to Bruce and he easily admitted, "I know, B. It wasn't really true."

"So why did you say that?"

Although he was frustrated at himself for letting other people's opinion of him cloud his judgment, Dick tried to explain, "People just think I'm a circus freak. They expect me to go around flying from the chandelier like it's all I'm able to do."

Bruce knew he wasn't very elegant in his speeches but he tried to convince Dick, "This isn't a reason to change anything about yourself, Dick. If you enjoy it I'd hope you'd stick to it despite what anyone else might say." It was something he thought Dick needed to hear and he hoped he would take those words to heart.

"I know that, Bruce, but I don't want anyone to think you've raised a weird freak who can't sit still for five seconds." The last thing Dick wanted was to ruin Bruce's reputation.

"You don't have to change for me, Dick. I don't want you to ever do that. You're my son and the only thing that matters is that you're happy."

"I'm your son, B, but I'm also Bruce Wayne's son, the richest man in the world, and a lot of people expect me to be like everyone else at the party."

"Look at me, Dick." Once he was sure Dick was paying attention to the determination on the seriousness in his expression, Bruce said, "I don't want you to ever think like that. What matters is that you're happy and if that's acrobatics you have to stick with it. You're young now, Dick, and I know there's a lot of pressure on you from outside the family but you're going to regret making choices based on what anyone else expects from you."


	33. Model Behavior II

Visiting Mount Justice was a major turning point in Tim's life. It's where he learned he wanted to follow in his older brother's footsteps and where he learned how it felt to have a crush on someone. His crush lasted almost a decade before he got a chance to confess his feelings and Connor got a chance to grow some.

 **Model Behavior II**

* * *

The notice for the mission had been a surprise, but a welcomed one nonetheless.

A few hours ago Dick and Tim had been in Providence for a photoshoot and interview for a magazine when Dick got a call to report in to Mount Justice as soon as possible. After all these years the two had been modeling, the photographers knew that Bruce Wayne's children were almost as bad as him when it came to punctuality and to expect that something else might come up with their busy lives. It had become clear that modeling and being a celebrity were a hobby and not a priority in their lives.

As professional as ever, Dick politely told the crew that they had to attend to an emergency and would be calling to reschedule sometime next week. It wasn't a complete lie, the kidnapping of a foreign president's children by some high profile villains looking for more than a ransom was most definitely an emergency, but they probably thought it had to do with a change in mood. Nonetheless his charm eased their frustration and they assured him it was no problem while wishing him the best in dealing with the emergency.

When he got alerts about a mission in Gotham Dick usually left Tim at the Manor before going out on patrol with Bruce or Young Justice, but he didn't have anyplace nearby to keep his little brother. Especially with many high profile kids going missing Dick didn't want to leave Tim alone and without any security.

He quickly got clearance from the rest of the team to bring Tim in with him to Mount Justice and found him a pair of sunglasses to protect their identity from the rest of the team. Dick's original plan was to get Tim into his room as fast as possible to keep him ignorant about the disturbing details of the mission, but seeing the slew of heroes, both young and older, it didn't look like he'd have much time to get him settled.

As soon as Bruce looked up from the consul on his wrist and caught sight of his sons, Batman walked over and pulled them into a corner where he wasn't likely to be overheard. He addressed Dick in his regular cold voice as he ordered, "Robin, go to your room and switch into costume. I want you back here for a debriefing as soon as possible."

Dick feigned a formal salute before giving Tim a quick goodbye and turning to leave the room.

Seeing his older brother excited to get to work and the powerful heroes waiting for him to return Tim wishing he was old enough to follow. It had been a dream of his since he found out just who Batman and Robin were, but it felt amazing to see it all come together. Once he was unable to see Dick, Tim turned to Bruce looking for any clue as to what he should do. Bruce sighed and talked to him in a soft voice far lower than what he'd used before. "There's a common area where you can sit and wait. Some of the other members are staying behind so you should be able to pass the time watching tv." Feeling the rest of the team's eyes on him, he straightened up and used his stern voice to order, "Don't break anything."

Tim nodded his understanding and lifted his arms for Bruce to carry him to the common room. He didn't think he'd be able to find his way around the giant mountain himself and his legs might not work with all the heroes watching him so Bruce was his best option. Bruce was unsure for a second, but Batman knew Tim had a knack for getting distracted by new things and would probably end up sleeping in the ventilation system by the time they got back from the mission.

There were a few snickers from the teenagers behind him, but Bruce ignored them and carried his son in the direction of the tv room. Tim peeked over his shoulder and waved back at the crowd who immediately waved back and started whispering among themselves.

The common room was not as empty as Tim would have liked and it dawned on him that he would be spending his entire day with new superheroes he'd never met before. Nervous, he tried to hide has face in the crook of Bruce's shoulder hoping that no one would see him.

Miss Martian and Zatanna immediately rose from their seats to greet the baby in Batman's arms. Even though Bruce had a cold look on his face, it was easily negated by the kid nervously looking around to see where he was.

Before they could do anything, Zatanna and M'gann began whispering among themselves how cute Batman's daughter looked.

Batman moved past the two and sat Tim down on the chair and whispered to him, "We'll be late and there is a chance that you might have to spend the night here. If that happens, you will probably eat dinner with the team and go to sleep in Dick's room."

"Okay, but be back soon." He gave Bruce a goodluck hug, he could never tell how bad a mission was, before giving his attention to Dick's team members. Tim recognized who everyone was from the pictures Dick had shown him. The green girl was Miss Martian, M'gann, and she was really sweet even if she didn't understand everything to do with Earth. The girl beside her was Zatanna, daughter of Zatara, and she was magic like him too. Sitting to the side and staring at them was a boy about Tim's age who didn't look pleased. From Dick's explanations Tim assumed he was Superboy.

The girls seemed interested in him because as soon as Bruce was gone they rushed over to introduce themselves. They crouched down beside his chair and smiled to him hoping to calm him down.

"Hello. I'm Miss Martian but you can call me M'gann."

"I'm Zatanna." Turning to the only other boy in the room, she added, "That's Superboy, but he's a little grumpy right now."

Leaning down to get on the same eyeline as him, M'gann asked, "What's your name?"

Tim began to answer but he pulled back when he realized he didn't know what Bruce would want him to say. He leaned back into his chair while he tried to think of something to say instead of prolonging the silence.

Reaching out for him, M'gann lifted him into her arms and offered, "How about we give you a nickname, something like 'Little Robin?'" She couldn't help but want to hold Tim up when she saw how pouty he looked while thinking hard.

Now knowing what to say, Tim simply nodded and held on tight while they made their way into the kitchen. He peaked behind him to wonder why Superboy wasn't following them, but Tim assumed he had more important things to do. Right now Tim's best plan was to go with the flow and he wasn't going to argue or try to change anything they had already planned out.

M'gann dropped Tim down on the countertop before excitedly offering up her plans for the evening. "Dinners about to start soon and we're going to order pizza and make some fresh cookies."

The idea was exciting for Tim, but he had to quell his expectations when he remembered that not all cookies were like the ones Alfred made. In the end he simply said, "I like cookies."

Before he could think too much about how stupid that sounded, Zatanna asked, "What kind are your favorites?"

Tim didn't know what to think about the way Zatanna talked to him, she acted like he was a little boy, but it didn't really bother him. It was different from the way Dick sometimes talked to him. He decided not to think about it too much and easily answered, "My favorite are the soft chocolate chip ones, especially when they are a little hot."

After the girls looked up different recipes on their phone and Tim found one that was reminiscent of Alfred's cookies, the trio got gathered the ingredients they would need in one big pile and began working. There wasn't much for Tim to do, but he helped out any way he could.

After breaking the eggs into the bowl, M'gann stepped back and pressed her hand to her forehead as she said, "Hello, M'gann. The others are going to be dropping by for training. We should probably make some more for them too."

"Who's still coming? Most of the team left for the mission," Zatanna asked from her place by the oven.

"Aquaboy, Robin, and Artemis left and I think Wally said he's going to try to convince Roy to come with him. Something about him needing to stop working so hard."

That made Tim turn away from the cookie dough and look up with excited eyes. "Roy and Wally are coming? Are you sure?"

Not wanting to make any promises she couldn't keep, M'gann said, "Wally's going to come and he's going to try to bring Roy with them."

"When are they coming?" This was the best thing that could have happened in Tim's opinion and he wanted them here as soon as possible.

Zatanna looked between them and offered, "I can call-"

"Please!" It had been too long since he had seen the two of them. Ever since they had joined the team it seemed like they were all too busy to drop by the Manor so he wasn't going to let the opportunity slip away. "Can you please check?"

Smiling at him, Zatanna dug out her phone and looked through her contacts. Finding Wally's number she barely pressed down on the phone symbol before he picked up. She put the phone on speaker and placed it in the center of the three of them so everyone could listen in.

Before anyone could say anything, Tim leaned in and asked, "Wally?"

The redhead was confused to hear the boy calling from Zatanna's phone, but he was excited nonetheless. "Yup, Babybird. It's me."

Still anxious of his answer, Tim asked, "Are you coming today? M'gann said you were and that Roy was coming too."

Laughing, Wally assured him, "Now that I know you're there I'll only be a few minutes."

"Roy too?"

"Yeah, Roy too."

Noticeably calmer, Tim was pleased before he began to chastise, "You haven't come to Gotham a lot, Wally. I missed you."

"I know it's been hard on me too, but I do have a surprise to make it up to you," Wally said hoping to make up for his absence. It really was a surprise just for Tim, it was going to happen nonetheless, but it was something he was sure Tim would appreciate.

"Really? I'm going to like it?" Tim knew by now to be cautious of surprises.

"I sure hope so. I had I'll have to rope in a few favors, but I think I can make it work." This wasn't entirely true, but he wanted Tim to think it was hard to him to get the surprise together. Hopefully if Tim thought he'd put a lot of work into it he'd value it more.

Happy to see Tim so happy, M'gann asked, "Wally, when did you meet Robin's little sister? I didn't even know he had one."

As soon as she finished, M'gann knew she must have said something wrong because Tim sat back in his chair and turned his attention to his lap. Through the phone, Wally sighed and told her, "Take me off speaker for a second. I need to talk to the two of you."

The two girls looked between themselves concerned before picking up the phone and holding it up between themselves. Low enough that Tim couldn't overhear, Wally explained, "He probably won't be that upset, but Babybird doesn't like it when people think he's a girl. It's a pretty long story, but the gist of it is that people make the mistake a lot and it bothers him. If you say sorry it won't be that big of a deal but don't make the mistake again."

"Anything else we should know?" Looking at Tim refusing to meet their eye, Zatanna didn't want to make another mistake and make him feel worse.

"Not that I can think of. Give me a few minutes to get Roy and we'll be there."

"We ordered pizza. Pick it up," M'gann called just for the call ended. Sharing a knowing look with Zatanna, they both sat down on opposites sides of Tim and apologized.

"I'm sorry we called you a girl."

"We didn't mean to make you upset. It was a mistake and it won't happen again."

Tim had had long enough to think it over and he simply sighed, "It's okay. It happens a lot."

Unsure of how to make him feel better, M'gann decided it would be best to just ask. "What can we do to make it up to you? Is there anything you want?"

Tim considered his options and decided, "I can wait for my surprise Wally and Roy have." There had been a history for it not working in the past, but he was willing to wait if it was as good as Wally promised

He knew his hope hadn't been misplaced when he heard the zeta tube announce that Wally and Roy were here. Running out to where he knew the entrance to the mountain was, Tim shouted, "Wally! Roy!"

Heaving him into the air, Roy noted, "You've gotten bigger since the last time I saw you."

"That's because it was a long time." A little more serious, Tim leaned into their ear and whispered, "You can't say my name. No one here knows it."

"What should we call you?"

"Everyone else calls me 'Little Robin.'"

Frowning, Wally said, "That's too long. How about we call you Babybird?"

Tim sternly said, "They can't call me that, only you and Dick can."

"How about 'Red?' It's your favorite color right?"

"Okay," Tim simply said before asking, "Where's my surprise?"

"He's not here yet, but he will be soon," Wally promised.

"It's a person?" Tim asked confused. The last time that happened his surprise had been Wally and Roy and while he might like Dick introducing them to him now, back then it had been a major let down.

"Yup. I know for a fact you'll like it."

Trusting Wally to know his tastes, Tim lead him back to the kitchen and showed him what he and the girls had been working on. By now Tim knew just how much Wally liked to eat and this could be a perfect thank you for whatever Tim's surprise ended up being.

Showing him the batter ready to be put in the oven, Tim said, "We're making chocolate chip cookies."

Lifting Tim onto the counter, Roy looked at the batter and asked, "Are they the hot and soft ones that melt in your mouth?"

Tim nodded his head and added, "I know that they are your favorites."

"You know me well, Red."

Wally looked around the kitchen to see if there was any more and asked, "Do you think we can make more? I don't think we have enough for everyone."

"If it's only going to be the five of us, I think we have enough."

Tim did the math in his head and turned to her shocked as he asked, "Superboy isn't going to get any? He should get some too."

"Sorry, Red, I don't think he's is going to want any," Roy said in response to Tim's naivety.

"We should still ask. He looked grumpy before and he might want some to feel better." If they really were heroes they would do this to help him feel better. It simple enough.

"You don't understand, Red. He needs some time alone right now and we shouldn't bother him."

Tim looked at Roy as he thought of his argument before jumping off of the counter to the common room where he had last seen Superboy. He was still there but now watching static on tv. Tim wanted to ask why, but he didn't want Superboy to think he was judging him and instead he stepped up beside him.

Bluntly, Tim said, "Do you want some cookies?"

Superboy was shocked by the question before he finally answered, "No thanks."

"We tried very hard and they're the soft ones that melt in your mouth. They're going to be very good," Tim asked confused. It seemed like an easy way to feel better.

"No thanks," Superboy repeated annoyed. All he really wanted right now was for Tim to leave him alone.

Tim looked up to where Roy was watching them with a frown before telling Superboy, "They might make you feel better."

"I feel fine."

Deciding Tim had learned his lesson, Roy stepped up and said, "We should head back and give him some space, Red. If that's what he wants we can't push him."

Before they could walk back to the kitchen, the zeta tube a few rooms away began shining. Thinking his father and brother had been back early, Tim rushed in to greet them and everyone else who had been on the mission. If they had enough time maybe Bruce would even introduce him to all of them. Instead, the computer called out, "Superman" and the Kryptonian walked out towards them.

Standing beside Roy as they waited for him to come in the living room, Tim began shaking frantically in exasperation. When the silhouette came into view, he was pretty sure he stopped breathing until he got a clear view of the hero.

Tim had just enough sense not to call out Superman's real name, but he did run up to him and shout, "Uncle Cl-Supe! I didn't know you were coming."

Lifting him up to make the hug easier, Clark said, "I wanted it to be a surprise. It's my job to look after training today and I only just learned you were going to be here."

"Dad and Robin are away and I might have to sleep here tonight," Tim explained. Just under an hour ago, Tim had been worried about how today would end but seeing just how many of his old friends he was able to catch up with he was over the moon. "I get to sleep in Robin's room tonight."

"Where's a certain old butler?"

Leaning in as close as he could, Tim whispered, "He's away right now." He didn't know just how much information Bruce wanted Tim giving out, so he decided to keep it to a minimum.

Smiling up at him, Clark said, "Well I'm glad I get to have your company tonight. I'm sorry I haven't been able to drop by these past few weeks."

"That's okay. Dad got me a brand new video games and that's all I've been doing since school ended." Tim knew they were all busy with their important lives and saving people so it didn't bother him when they had more urgent things to get to. "You can still come by though. I think our dog really misses you."

"Well now that your school is over I can probably convince Bats to bring you down for a visit too."

Tim pretended like it was a hard decision to make before agreeing, "Okay, but you have to make sure Krypto is there. He's my favorite part."

"Really? I thought the pies were your favorite."

Clark had Tim perched on his arm as if it was a bench as he lead the two of them to the kitchen. Tim had his full faith in the hero and didn't even need to hold onto him as they made their way around the mountain.

Pointing in the direction of the kitchen, Tim said, "We're making cookies. I don't think they'll be as good as the apple pie, but I like making them."

"Well then I can't wait to try them."

They all stood around the oven waiting for M'gann to find her oven mitts before they remembered Clark was invulnerable. He moved Tim to his shoulders before reaching in and setting the cookies down on the counter to cool off.

"They really smell nice, Ti-."

"You have to call me 'Red' Superman, Tim said as he landed a few soft blows to Clark's shoulder." Trying to be as serious as Bruce was, Tim added, "No one can know my name."

"I'm sorry, Red. Won't happen again."

Turning his attention back to the cookies, Tim tested the pan to see if they were edible just yet and flinched back when they scorched his hands. "How long do we have to wait?"

"They should be ready by the time we have the milk and plates set out." Picking up the second tray of cookies they had made, M'gann added, "We'll put the second batch in so they'll be ready by the time we finish the first."

Tim watched from the atop the island as the others moved around the kitchen, M'gann working on the oven, Clark grabbing plates for everyone, Wally putting all of the dirty bowls and utensils in the sink, Zatanna pouring milk into a pitch and Roy getting glasses, and asked, "Should we ask Superboy if he wants any again? He might have changed his mind."

Everyone's eyes turned to Superman who stiffened at the question and their stares. "I really don't think he'll want to, Red. He just needs some space."

Before Tim could ask anything else, a chime rang from Zatanna's phone and she announced, "The pizza's ready if anyone wants to go pick it up."

Wally ran out the room and came back as soon as they sat around the table. "I made sure no one noticed me going fast. Did you guys start without me?"

"No we waited for you."

The group quickly began discussing their day as they stuffed themselves, but in the midst of everything Tim snuck away and came back with the excuse that he had to go to the restroom. If anyone had been playing close attention they would have noticed that he had left with food and returned with none, but they had other things to focus on. As soon as he began yawning they decided to call it a night and all set out to their separate rooms.

As they were the only ones left in the area, Clark asked, "Do you need any help getting into bed?" He didn't fully know how to put a kid to bed, but he wanted to offer Tim his help just in case.

Tim admitted, "I don't know where Robin's room is and I'm supposed to sleep there."

"I can show you the way," Clark said leading Tim in what he assumed was the right direction. "Is there anything else?"

Thinking about what he would need to go to sleep, Tim realized, "I don't have any pajamas to sleep in. They are all left in Gotham." All he had was the clothes on his back.

"There are some spares kept around, but they might be a little too large for you. I'll find something." They stood in front of what Tim assumed to be Dick's room and Clark had to ask, "Do you know what his code could be?" If he didn't they'd need a new plan.

Thinking deeply, Tim asked to be raised in the air before testing his ideas out. It only took him two tries before the door unlocked and they could walk in. The room was a mess with clothes and paper thrown all over but Tim was able to clear up the bed while Clark went to look for some clothes. All alone, the room felt like a messy bunker and began to make Tim feel anxious. He didn't think he wanted to be left alone his first night in the mountain. As Clark returned to leave the clothes on the desk, Tim asked, "Where are you going to sleep?"

He hadn't thought about it, but decided, "There's usually a spare room that I can spend the night in."

Not wanting to come off as desperate, Tim decided to offer his support as he said, "You can sleep with me if you want. If you're scared or something, I can help."

"Are you sure?" Clark asked not seeing what Tim meant. "Your brother might not like me staying here."

"Then….I can sleep with you in your room."

Unable to think of a reason otherwise, Clark said, "As soon as you change you can find me down the hall. I'll leave the door open so you know which room." Not for the first time Tim was grateful to have such an amazing uncle.

As soon as Clark closed the door Tim rushed through his nighttime routine before crawling into bed beside Clark. He wanted to be beside someone as soon as possible.

At first it felt a little awkward, Tim didn't know if he should be sleeping right away or talking with Clark, so he decided to ask the simplest question ever. "How was your day?"

By now Clark could tell just want was happening and he decided to play along however long Tim needed him to. "It was pretty normal. I had work in Metropolis and there wasn't any trouble that needed my help so I had a lot of free time. I visited my parents on their farm for a few hours before B contacted me saying it was my turn to look after the team and I flew out here. Then I got to meet one of my favorite nephews after a long time and finish off with some of his amazing cookies."

Tim hid his face in Clark's shoulder before asking, "What are you supposed to do? Is it just to have fun?"

"Nothing really tonight, it was pretty late after all and they had school today, but tomorrow morning we'll be spending the most of the day training. It's not really supposed to be fun, but I'm glad you're enjoying this."

Remembering that this was supposed to be worried about his family and the mission they were on, Tim asked, "Do you know how long it's going to be till everyone gets back?"

"I'm sorry, Tim, but no. Most likely they'll be done by late tomorrow or it could go on for a few more days." He didn't like it, but it was the truth. At the defeated slouch Clark could feel on his side, Clark asked, "How was your day? Did you have school?" If he was looking after Tim it was his job to make sure he was feeling well and right it meant coming up with a distraction for him.

"No we had the day off because a lot of the school got destroyed the other night," Tim said apathetically.

"What happened?" Clark asked exasperated. There was something disturbing about the way Tim was able to say that with so little emotion involved, but it might just be something about Gotham.

"Poison Ivy. She had her plants invade a whole side of the campus and now the city has to make sure they take everything out and nothing could hurt us." Now it wasn't the lack of emotion that bothered Clark, but the excitement.

"So did you spend the day at home?"

It almost felt like it had been hours ago, but TIm remembered, "Mostly we did nothing, but Dick and I had a photoshoot. We had to leave early because he got the message that he needed to come to Happy Harbor and here we are."

Just to keep the conversation going, Clark asked, "Is this your first time in the mountain?"

"Yup. It's amazing!"

"You think you might be interested in staying in the family business?"

Unsure, Tim asked, "Do you think I could? Dick says he doesn't want to be Robin forever, that he thinks he'll move onto another mantel, and I think I could take over. I just don't know if Dad wants me to."

"He'll be worried, Tim. He's still incredibly worried about Dick, but I think he'll appreciate having you beside him. It'll take a lot of training though."

Tim believed what Clark was telling him, but he also had to ask, "He won't be mad?"

"Bruce is your dad, Tim. I've never seen him be upset with you."

Cautiously, Tim asked, "Are you upset with Superboy?" He wasn't entirely sure if he was supposed to be talking about this sort of stuff, but he had Clark's attention and it was important to him.

"That's different, Tim," Clark said hoping Tim would drop the subject.

"Why?"

"Because he wasn't born like you or Dick. He was made in a lab to replace me."

Thinking back to the sad boy sitting alone on the couch, Tim remembered, "He looks lonely."

"There's not a lot I can do about that, Tim. I'm not his father, i didn't choose to have him." He knew it wasn't a proper argument, but he hoped Tim was too tired to continue the conversation. Best case scenario he'd just forget about everything.

"Dad didn't chose to have us," Tim said sounding slightly offended. "Grandma and Grandpa Kent didn't chose to have you either. We just sort of came by."

"That's different, Tim."

"But why?" Tim asked frustrated. "He needs a dad and you're his dad."

Groaning as he tried to get into a sleeping position, Clark asked, "Can we talk about this later, Tim? It's getting late."

"No."

"Why? We could talk about it in the morning."

Tim pleaded, "Then he could hear you saying you don't want him and he'll feel worse."

Clark sighed and tried to explain his perspective again. He hoped Tim would be smart enough to understand just why this was so hard for him. "I'm not ready to have a kid, Tim. I didn't even know he existed until recently and I don't think I'm what he needs right now."

"You don't have to be a dad right away. You could be a friend right now and then be his dad."

"I don't know if I could do that, Tim. I don't know if I could be a good parent."

"Can't you ask your parents for help? You're an alien, Uncle Clark, and they found you in a field and decided they could raise you. They could help you with Superboy."

Sighing as Tim finally wore him down, Clark decided, "Okay, Tim. I'll see if I can help."

Satisfied with his work, Tim curled closer before asking, "Do you want some advice?"

"Do you have any?"

"Yup," Tim said with the last of his energy. "You should give him a name first. It's weird calling him 'Superboy' all the time."

Shifting to his side so Tim could see he was trying to sleep, Clark promised, "I'll talk to my parents about it"

* * *

Dick wondered if Bruce could see what he was seeing. Bruce had a habit of not noticing things he didn't want to acknowledge and this seemed like a perfect opportunity for him to live in his own ignorant reality.

To Dick it was perfectly clear. His little brother had his first crush and it was Superman's son.

* * *

Standing on the teleportation doc, Tim anxiously played with his glove. This was going to be the first time he would meet the whole team as Robin and he very much wanted to impress them.

Dick would be coming down to go with him in a few minutes, but Tim still felt anxious about meeting the rest of the team. He already knew some of Dick's original teammates, he brought them around the Manor enough, but he was going to be meeting some new members as well. If he was being honest with himself, the person he was most nervous about meeting was Connor. He'd seen some pictures of him through Dick and seen him once or twice when he'd come over to the Manor, but that had been it. They had very little contact with one another despite what Tim might have wanted.

In his worry he hadn't noticed Dick sneaking up on him until his hand feel on his shoulder. "It's going to be fine, Timbo. You're going to have a great time."

"I just want them to like me, Dick. I know how great of a team they are and I don't want to mess that up."

"Between you and me, you're better than anyone there and you'll do fine. You get along great with them and..." Realization finally dawning on him, Dick gave his little brother a sly smile and asked, "You still have a little crush, don't you? After all these years..."

Tim's lack of answer was answer enough and Dick was torn between embarrassing him or helping him. As his older brother he had a responsibility to do both. The kinder part of him decided Tim would have enough to worry about on his own without anything Dick could possibly say now.

Leaning down to comfort Tim in a hug, Dick assured him, "It's perfectly normal, Tim, and you've picked a great person to have your first crush on."

Dropping to the ground and hiding his face in his knees, Tim tried to make himself invisible. When that didn't work all he could say was, "I'm a horrible person."

Now more confused than anything, Dick asked, "How have you done anything wrong? You haven't even told him."

"He's like eight, Dick," Tim groaned.

"He's almost nineteen, Tim, and if anything you're a few years too young for him. Plus he's dated a lot of people on his own. You and I both know that's an excuse for you not to act on anything."

"How do I make the crush go away, Dick?" Tim begged. "There has to be a way."

"In any other situation I'd agree with you, Babybird, but you meet him nine years ago and you still aren't over him. It's not going to go away anytime soon." He wanted to help Tim, but there was nothing he could do right now. This was all on Tim.

Trying to be the optimistic one, Tim hoped, "Maybe he's changed and different now and after seeing it I'll come to my senses." Even if Tim hasn't really changed since there was no reason Connor couldn't have changed.

If Dick was being honest, not much had changed with Connor. "He really is a lot like how he was ten years ago. He's grumpy more times than not and still tries to keep his distance with everyone he meets."

Tim wanted to ask him for help, some trick he might have to get over this crush he hadn't been able to drop for years, but before he could say anything they heard Bruce coming towards them and dropped the subject. Even now he was blissfully unaware of Tim's infatuation with Superboy and Dick sort of wanted him to retain his bliss as long as he could. They knew there would be hell if it ever came out and it was Dick's duty to protect Tim from the fallout. Relationships were hard, especially when Bruce was involved.

In any case, Bruce was able to see the distress in Tim's expression and thought he knew the cause. In a comfortable embrace he assured his son, "Everything's going to be fine, Timothy, and hopefully a lot of good will come out of it. You're worried over nothing."

Not trusting Tim to act normally, Dick cut in and said, "It's time to get going. We don't to be late."

Tim followed the two of them past the zeta tube to Mount Justice while nervously scratching his face in anticipation. This was literally going to be one of the biggest moments in Tim's life and he had to do everything he could to not make a mistake.

They walked down to the main foyer where most of the briefings happened and found some other heroes sitting around. It wasn't common that someone joined the team and all of Dick's friends were here to support Tim as officially became a member. Dick had heard them talking beforehand about how great of an opportunity Tim would be for them, mostly as leverage they would be able to use over Dick and Bruce, but he was sure everyone knew just how much baggage Tim came with. If Bruce wasn't enough to scare them they didn't want to see what Dick looked like when his little brother was the one in trouble or injured.

Tim looked around at everyone who had showed up to his induction into the team and said, "You didn't have to be here. It's not really that big of a deal."

Wally assured him, "You're joining Young Justice, Rob. We wouldn't miss it for the world."

Tim blushed and averted his eyes, it seemed like all he could do today, as they waited for the room to fill with all of the members. There was some casual conversation, but it was hard to think of much to say with Bruce brooding above them. To Tim's pleasure and dismay Connor was there too, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything to him. Instead he simply stole a few furtive glances while Connor looked like he couldn't be less interested in what they were doing.

Once the room was full and he had everyone's attention Dick stepped out to the front of the room and decided it was time for a speech. "It's been a few years since we've made this team, but after all these years my little brother will be joining. He has many years of experience with crime fighting and even more with acrobatics and he's going to be a great addition to the team. Because he's my little brother it's my responsibility to remind you that he's the newest person on the team and everyone here is his senior and can boss him around."

There were a few snickers from everyone but Bruce or Tim, but all Tim was able to pay attention to was Connor still standing in the back looking annoyed to be wasting his time here.

After a few congratulations from the others on the team, Dick pulled Tim out to the side and assured him, "It will all be fine, Tim. Don't worry about it."

* * *

Tim sat down for breakfast and waited for the pain in his head to go down. He wasn't entirely sure he didn't have a concussion from a hit he'd taken on a mission the night before, but a side effect must have been an inability to care. All he cared about right now was getting something to eat.

To his surprise Connor was in the kitchen already making something over the sto. Tim would have turned back to his room, but he didn't think it would be a good idea after Connor had already seen him. Instead, he pulled out some cereal and began quietly and quickly eating and hoping to be alone as soon as possible.

Looking back at him over his shoulder, Connor said, "You don't have to rush because of me. I won't mind if you eat in your room or something."

"No no...that's not," Tim sputtered, "It's not you."

"Then what is it?" Connor asked placing everything on his omelet on his plate. He grabbed some salt and pepper from the counter before pulling out a seat beside Tim and noticing how he stiffened at their closeness.

Tim explained, "It's a lot of things and you are just one of them."

Connor said, "We have time. The others aren't going to be up for a while and I'm still the only only one who's not close to you.."

"Um..."

"I'll start then," Connor said nonchalantly. "I didn't liked you when we meet a few years ago."

"What? Why?" Tim knew he and Connor weren't close, but he couldn't see why Connor wouldn't like him. "I gave you cookies the first time I met you."

"You got along so well with Clark. He was my dad and he liked you more," Connor said with little to no emotion in his voice. He'd had years to think this over, particularly how he would confront Tim on the subject, and now it seemed like something that just needed to be said. "It wasn't easy to get over."

"Hasn't that changed by now?" Tim asked concerned. "I thought you guys were getting along." That was the promise Clark had made to him.

"It took a few years, but it still really bothered me that he liked some strange kid more than he liked his own son. I was his own blood and he liked you more. He even let you sleep with him at night." It used to feel like Tim was a younger brother he could never compete with.

Thinking back, Tim remembered, "I had a serious problem with that. Not with how he treated me, but I spent a lot of the night arguing with him on that. I didn't let him go to sleep until he promised to get closer to you. You just looked so sad sitting there all alone and angry."

"Yeah Clark told me about that. Thanks for doing that for me."

"It's no problem, Connor. Sometimes it's our job to knock some sense into our fathers."

There was an awkward silence until Connor realized that he'd also been wrong about something else. "I also used to think you were a girl. When we first met I didn't know you were a boy and always references you as a girl around Clark. It took a while for him to learn who I was talking about." Trying to remember how he might have come to the conclusion Connor said, "I think it might have been your squeaky voice."

Unfazed by the confession, Tim assured him, "You're like the thousandths person to get it wrong. Wally and Roy were the first and from there it's been everyone who has meet me as a child."

"Does it ever get annoying?" Connor asked less embarrassed by his confession.

"Literally every single time it's happened," Tim groaned. "But at least it hasn't happened in a while."

At the smile Connor gave him Tim realized it was a perfect opportunity to make a confession of his own. He'd imagined giving him this confession millions of times in the years since he'd met Connor and had memorized the best way to get through it. "I used to have a crush on you when we met. You looked really cute just sitting on the couch and watching the static on the tv and from there I had my first crush."

Connor hadn't been expecting that, but a lot more of Tim personality made sense. He had to ask, "Is that the reason you've been trying so hard to get to know me? It's like you're always trying to impress me but at the same time avoid spending alone with me."

"Yeah I'm not a very confrontational person." Tim preferred things falling into place with his slow and constant prodding, not any face to face interaction. He considered it a balance to Dick's personality.

"It's not that big of a deal," Connor assured him. "You're still the least weird person here, myself included."

Tim appreciated that this was the first time the two of them had had a serious conversation between themselves and decided to leave before he somehow messed it all up. He wasn't entirely lying when he said, "Batman is going to want me home soon so I should get going."

Connor watched him set his dishes in the dishwasher before turning to leave the room and realized he needed to ask something pretty important. "Do you still have a crush on me?"

The sputtering and haste with which Tim left the room was answer enough, but Connor knew it was still too soon to start a relationship with the youngest member of the BatFamily. At the very least he didn't want to bring on the disdain of Nightwing and Batman as he tried to find a way to spend some more time alone with Robin.

* * *

Tim groaned against the bright lighting in the room and slowly forced his eyes open against their frustration. Looking around he realized he was in the medbay in Mount Justice and considering the bandages around his midriff and the casts around his leg he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. To his left he could see Dick sleeping in an awkward position on a chair that someone must have set out to keep him close and Connor staring off into the wall before he realized Tim was awake.

Once he was sure he could make out some proper words he asked, "What happened?" His voice still sounded raspy and scratchy, but he was curious enough to fight through the pain in his throat.

"Do you remember anything?" Connor asked concerned. There was a possibility that Tim might be experiencing memory loss, but that would mean his injuries were more serious than the doctors had originally thought.

"I remember everything, I think, but not how I got here." He wasn't even sure what day it was or how long he'd been out of commision, but it was a feeling he'd gotten used to once he'd taken over the mantel.

"We were on a mission in Latvia looking for a supply of LexCorp weapons when we ran into Queen Bee and her minions," Connor explained. "It sort of went downhill from there."

Tim tried to think back, but it all just came up as a blank. Instead, he asked, "How bad was I hurt?"

If Tim had been paying more attention he would have noticed that Connor's grip on the sheets tightened to the point they were irreparably stretched out, but he was more focused on the sharpness in Connor's eyes. If Tim didn't know better he'd think he was about to use his laser vision.

"You have a couple of broken bones and a concussion. You won't be able to walk for a few weeks, but after that you'll be fine. I hope."

"Nothing that hasn't happened before," Tim said trying to ease his concerns. He'd been getting used to Connor paying more attention to his health, but it still caught him off guard every now and then and he felt that he should quell some of Connor's anxiety.

"You were on my team, Tim. I should have been taking better care of you," Connor said defiantly. There were very few people he actually cared about and now that Tim was one of them he couldn't allow for him to get hurt.

"Connor I've gotten seriously hurt with Batman a few feet away. There wasn't anything you could do." Tim wanted to ease him from his concern, especially as Dick started to adjust himself in his seat. He knew he'd have a hard time explaining to Dick just why he and Connor were sitting so close or why Tim was only moving closer.

Connor admitted to Tim, "I thought you'd died. I couldn't see you through the mess of rubble and people fight and I'd thought you'd died. I can't get the idea of you dying out of my head. It's all I can think about."

Tim didn't really know what to say to that, he'd only just woken up, so he asked, "Do you want to sleep next to me? I don't think the chair is all that comfortable and the room is a little too cold for me. I'd appreciate it."

Connor looked unsure and assured Tim, "You don't have to. You're the one who's hurt and you shouldn't have to be trying to take care of me."

"I care about you Connor, I have since I was a kid, and I don't mind the company."

Finally Connor submitted to the request and walked around the bed as Tim lifted the blanket for him to crawl in with him. He was sure he could hear Dick snickering as he tried to get comfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to care once Tim got rid of the space between them and started to doze off.


	34. Not So Secret

Bruce never imagined that an eight year old boy would be the one to discover the best kept secret in Gotham

 **Not So Secret**

* * *

Bruce was restless as he watched Dick and Tim enamored in a show they were watching from Tim's bed. It was well past Tim's regular bedtime, but without Alfred in the house they all knew it was an opportunity for Tim to test the rules. He had done so this morning when he refused to fix his hair as Bruce instructed and again a few hours ago when he tried to barter out his daily bath. Bruce was thankful that Tim was comfortable in his charge, but sometimes he missed the little boy who always listened to what he said.

Trying again to get Tim to sleep, Bruce said, "I'm serious boys, I have work to do and I can't have you awake the whole time."

Dick immediately recognized the voice as something between Bruce and Batman and took it as his cue to go to the cave. Bruce still insisted on him doing all of his stretches before they went out and if he stayed in Tim's room any longer he'd have to spend even more time in the cave making it up to Bruce. Last time he'd done something like this it had ended with him trying to keep his balance on the tail of the dinosaur for half an hour. His feet began to feel sore just at the memory of that day. Dick was prepared for Tim's disappointment when he said, "He's right, Tim. It's time for bed and we should turn in."

Tim looked between Dick and Bruce and laughed to himself. He didn't know how the best detective in the world still didn't know that an eight year old knew his secret. A long time ago he'd decided that he'd keep Bruce's secret as long as he could, he'd learned a long time ago just how much bruce valued his pride, but it was getting harder and harder not to blurt it out.

As Dick climbed out of his bed and rushed out to change into his uniform, Bruce ducked down to Tim's level and helped him get into position for sleep. Bruce knew he had a few more minutes and he spent it making sure Tim was tucked tightly enough that he wouldn't be able to break out anytime soon. It had happened once or twice that he'd be walking around the Manor for a domestic patrol to make sure everything was fine and find Tim sneaking around behind some decor. Once he could see Tim's eyes drooping down, Bruce stroked his hair hoping to lull him farther. "Good night, Tim. I hope you have a good night's rest."

Going back between sleep and awake, Tim knew he had to say something back and murmured, "Bye bye, Batman."

Shocked, Bruce stiffened at his position by Tim's side and felt his hand in the boy's hair tightening. It was only when Tim shifting too look at him annoyed that Bruce stood up and began pacing. There were so many questions he needed the answer to and some he didn't, but he knew he wouldn't be able to make a lot of progress with Tim so close to dozing off and a patrol to get to. Even when he tried to say something he only managed to make a choking sound until he could force himself to calm down. It took him far too long to say, "We'll talk about this in the morning," and close the door behind him.

Alone in his room, Tim groaned as he realized how much of his secret he'd given away. He'd been hoping to keep the knowledge to himself until he was in trouble and then use it to his leverage.

For Bruce the knowledge that Tim knew the most well kept secret in Gotham lead to many dangerous possibilities. There was a chance Tim was a spy sent from an enemy, the US government or even Ra's, to keep tabs on his movement and any developments. If he was being honest, he could see a few of the more desperate figures in the many mobs in Gotham doing something like this hoping to find a way to get some money out of him. Tim could also be a metahuman with superior hearing or an ability to read minds, but Bruce doubted he would have missed the signs up until now. The most troubling theory that came to Bruce's mind was that Tim was a villain by himself, either someone pretending to be a young boy or a person with the mind of an adult and the body of a child, and this was simply a ploy to defeat Batman from the inside. There was always the possibility that Tim was a regular young boy, probably smarter than most, and had accidentally come across the knowledge himself. It was the most appealing theory to Bruce as it was the only one that let him keep the boy around.

Nonetheless, Bruce had an interrogation to prepare for in the morning.


	35. Titles

Despite their biology, Tim is Bruce's son. It's honestly just that simple . It might have taken months before either of the two noticed, but once it became clear neither of them would have it any other way

 **Titles**

* * *

Batman and Robin scanned the scene from their perch on roof across the road from a gallery in the heart of Gotham. They were looking into a robbery happening at the opening at the art museum that was supposed to happen tonight. Most of Gotham's elite were in the gallery discussing the pieces they would like to auction on and what the authors were trying to convey.

From his position Tim could see Dick moving across the crowd, smiling to everyone and pretended to be interested in everyone who pulled him aside. Robin knew his older brother well enough to see he would anything to trade places with either of them right now, but even Nightwing lucked out every now and then. Maybe someday Tim would be the one charming the crowd, but as of now no one would believe he was old enough to attend a formal function on his own.

The beeping off the signal in their gauntlets forced Tim to look away as he read exactly what Alfred was sending them from the Manor. He read it over a second time to make sure he didn't miss anything before informing Bruce, "There's been a breach on the other side of the building. Someone forced his or her way through the kitchen and the guards lost him or her on the third floor of the building. They've blocked off the every higher floors, so the robber won't be able to get any higher but they don't know the exact position."

It was a possibility Bruce had already prepared for and he quickly instructed, "Stay on the first floor and watch for anything strange in the party. If you can give Nightwing enough time to get into uniform and help you deal with the enemy."

Before they leapt into the air, Tim asked, "Do you think there's only one person to be on the lookout for or a group?"

"What do you think?" Bruce wanted to use the opportunity to see just how Tim's deductive skills were coming along.

Unsure, Tim sighed and said, "I think there might be a group. One person wouldn't be able to fight off the guards and get a lot of money, but there could be a group of people on standby to help out if something goes wrong. It would help with a clean break as the cops would have a hard time only looking for one person and they can try to keep the guards and cops attention on themselves as the main robber breaks out the museum."

Batman let himself feel proud as he said, "That's what I was thinking too," before ordering sternly, "If you see someone you think might be suspicious signal it down to Nightwing and see what he can find out."

As the duo broke away from one another, Tim watched Bruce disappear to the other side of the building. Tim found an opening in a window along the second floor and swiftly made his way to the ceiling of the party on the first floor while trying to remember the guest-list Bruce had made him memorize. From his position in the rafters he decided it would be best to first spot his older brother and send him a signal that things were about to get rough soon. When Dick pulled up at his collar Tim knew he had seen the signal and was on red alert, Tim messaged him to be on the lookout for any strange people in the crowd.

The two were quickly able to dismiss those they had seen at previous galas and social events in Gotham up until now and were left with a few dozen people of interest. About half of them were far too old to be of much use in a grand heist and some were too rich to have to worry about stealing money tonight. Bruce had a lot to say about more than a few of the people in the room and how they stole from the poor of Gotham, but Tim was pretty sure this was not what he meant. Nevertheless the boys were eventually able to zero in on a few figures at opposite ends of the room who did not belong. Their jewelry and clothes were obviously fake to the well trained eye and they were staying away from alcohol probably in hopes of not impairing their judgement once the night came to an end. The most telling was the furtive glances they threw to each other anytime there was a loud noise somewhere nearby.

Tim sent the information to Bruce's gauntlet and got a message to be on alert. Before Tim could make any progress in his plan to take the four down as soon as possible, a body came barreling down the stairs and fell flat on the floor in front of the crowd. There were a few quiet murmurs around the room as the attendants tried to determine who could have been drunk enough to fall down a flight of stairs, but they fell silent once a gun fell out from her pocket.

Tim flew down from his position on the rafters and blocked an exit as two of the accomplices tried to make a break for it. It only took him a few seconds to have them both tied up to the side and by the time he looked up Dick was already Nightwing and dealing with the other two. Tim knew Dick would be able to deal with the two on his own and instead he turned his attention to Bruce as he came down the stairs focused on the main suspect.

Once he was at Batman's side Tim realized it would be best for him to get the crowd to leave the building as soon as possible. He didn't want anyone to get to the suspects before the cops could get to them. Tim got their attention and instructed, "You should get out here as soon as possible. It's best to be out before the cops get here and start asking you questions."

Mention of the police might have been the secret word because the crowd quickly began to disperse, but only after sneaking a few pictures of Batman, Robin, and Nightwing. The lighting of the main foyer of the art gallery was very different from the darkness the trio was associated with. There were also a few who tried to flirt with the two oldest members of the group, but a quick glare from Batman was enough to have them rushing out of the building. By the time Dick was at their side there was only one other man left in the crowd, but it didn't look like he was going to be moving anytime soon.

It didn't take Tim long to realize someone was staring at him, especially when the others in the room had already left, but once he spun around he immediately recognized his father. He didn't need to be a detective to know just what Jack was thinking, he thought the Robin in front of him looked a lot like his son, and Tim needed to get him of the trail as soon as possible.

Before he could think about it too much, Tim turned back to Bruce and said, "Dad, it's probably time to turn back. The police can handel this from here and we already have all the information we need." If Jack thought Robin was Batman's son, there would be no way for him to also be his own son.

Dick gave him a raised eyebrow Tim dutifully ignored while Bruce didn't seem to notice Tim's choice of wording. He simply turned away from the criminal after checking to see if she had any information on her and said, "I don't think there's much we can do from here. We should probably head back and see if there's anything we can piece together in the cave."

Tim hoped his relief noticeable, but his father turning around to leave the hall convinced that Bruce was his father might just have been the greatest feeling he'd ever experienced.

It was only after he fired the grappling hook at Batman's heel that he realized just what had happened. He'd called Bruce his dad and Bruce hadn't told him off for it. Realistically Tim knew that Bruce might not have noticed his word choice, but he also knew Batman noticed everything. That lead to the possibility that maybe Bruce considered Tim to be his son and in his mind considered himself to be Tim's father. Dick must have been thinking the same thing because f he kept smiling back at Tim every time he came into his view. Tim knew a part of Dick just liked making fun of him, but a much larger part liked Tim considering himself a part of their family. After all, this was the man who'd started calling Tim 'little brother' a month after they'd first met and was pushing for him to stay in the Manor as often as possible.

Once they were back in the Manor and sitting around the cave methodically typing out their reports Tim decided he had an important decision to make. He could either pretend like the exchange never happened and didn't mean anything, if anyone ever asked he'd say that he was shocked by seeing his dad and accidentally thought of him as he was talking to Bruce, but he also knew he'd never be able to stop contemplating Bruce's reaction if he did that. The much more appealing option was to test his relationship with Bruce to see just what Bruce was comfortable with and maybe, hopefully, have a father-son relationship with him. Tim didn't know why Jack's possibly feeling on the matter didn't matter to him, but it didn't. Tim would pick Bruce as his father any day and this seemed like the perfect opening.

* * *

Even for being the best detective in the world, Bruce couldn't pinpoint exactly when his relationship with Tim changed. It must have soon after Jack was ill in the hospital, but as far as Bruce could remember he had been trying hard to not intrude in and harm Tim's relationship with his father. It had been hard trying to keep his distance with the boy when Bruce started to consider him his son and it looked like he wasn't doing too good of a job all things considered. Tim had been calling him 'dad' for about a month and Bruce couldn't bring himself to mind.

For all intents and purposes Tim really was his son. He took care of the boy any time Jack wasn't available, even after he was recovering from his injuries, and Bruce had a distinct feeling that Tim turned to him for support before he even thought of approaching Jack.

A part of Bruce wanted to ask Tim outright just why he he'd started calling him his father, it must have been an important moment for the teenager, but another part knew it would be unfitting of the relationship they had built over the years to talk about their feelings. There was a reason he had to listen to so many of Alfred's lectures on proper communication.

Instead, he simply started calling Tim 'son' once on the field and gauge his response. Just as he expected Tim didn't have any grand reaction at first, but he did seem to grow more comfortable. It might have had something to do with the fact that they had been on patrol while the interaction happened and the focus on crime dimmed Tim's comprehension of Bruce's word choice, but Bruce knew better than to underestimate his Robin. Tim wouldn't have come this far if he was stupid.

The effects didn't take long as Tim began taking liberties around the Manor, things he was simply too polite or afraid the first few months of their relationship, and soon he was reminiscent of Dick at a younger age. One thing that did particularly surprise Bruce was the fact he found the differences between the two most appealing. Tim reminded Bruce of himself at a younger age, although there was the massive difference in emotional development, and Bruce couldn't imagine him as anything other than his son.

After a few weeks Bruce decided to be more forward and simply called out, "It's time to head out, son," as they waited to leave for a formal party. The small smile Tim gave him in response was more than worth it.


	36. Alone on Christmas

No one should have to be alone on Christmas, but somehow they always were

 **Alone on Christmas**

* * *

Winter in the Manor usually meant things were slowing down for a few weeks. There was a massive decrease in crime in the city, even criminals took time off to be with their families, and this left Bruce with more time than he knew what to do with. He spent a lot of his time looking over old cases and making improvements to the machinery, but there was only so much he could do. Alfred usually went over his head to make sure he was getting something reminiscent of a proper sleep for a few weeks out of the year.

Just as did most weeks leading up to Christmas, Alfred came into Bruce's bedroom just early enough for him to tune into the morning news and catch up on anything important that might have happened while he was sleeping. There was usually a summary of international developments with a projection of what was expected later in the day, but today was different. The news was as slow as the crime rate and instead of running actual news, they were running a pre taped interview with a familiar figures in Gotham. It was fluff, but it was something Bruce could listen to as he ate his breakfast. This time he barely got past one sip of milk before he completely forgot about eating.

It had been a few weeks since Bruce had seen Tim and the television in his bedroom was the last place he expected to see him. The interview itself was simple enough, a few details about what was going on in Wayne Enterprises and their outreach over the holiday season, and Tim handled the questions masterfully. Compared to everything Bruce had seen him go through, this was nothing. Bruce was able to drown out most of it as background noise until the interviewer asked his own experience with Christmas in Wayne Manor. The question itself was nothing special, the fluff that was to be expected this close to the season, but it was the pause that through Bruce off. Tim didn't say anything for a few moments, longer than what was to be expected with such an easy questions, and when he did speak he put on the fake smile Bruce had hated the first time he had seen it. Cautiously, and in a slightly defeated tone recognizable to those close to him, Tim answered, "I wouldn't know. I've never spent Christmas with Mr. Wayne. He likes to keep Christmas to close friends and family."

As soon as the interview finished Bruce turned off the television and contemplated what he had just heard. It was one of the last things he was expecting to hear a few days before Christmas. Although he hated to admit it, Bruce knew it was true.

In the months after he had formally adopted Tim, Bruce had actually been looking forward to having his family together for Christmas. He had considered it one of the final ways Tim would need to be induced into the family. Looking back on it he had died before that ever came to fruition. Instead, everything was left up to Dick who already had to balance so many other responsibilities. Bruce couldn't imagine Christmas had been too festive. His sons hadn't even been on speaking terms after Dick had asked Tim to take a break from Robin and urged him to seek psychological help. If Tim was anything like Bruce he hadn't stopped working for a moment and was probably looking over hieroglyphics in a hotel room across the ocean while Alfred and Dick tried to tie together something reminiscent of their Christmases from years ago. Knowing Tim's tack for self doubt, he had probably thought that he didn't belong with the family for Christmas. The feelings was probably amplified by the fact that Tim was technically not a part of the family once he became an emancipated minor although Bruce had never considered him as anything other than his son.

Bruce knew the problem went beyond just Tim's relationship with Bruce. For most of the early years of their relationship Bruce had been in the dark to just how neglectful the Drakes were to Tim. The lack of any meaningful contact, the distance they kept between them and their son even when they were in town, and the emotional abuse should have been clear. Bruce might have noticed sooner if he'd paid closer attention to just how Tim reacted around the adult figures in his life, but he didn't. Instead, he'd tried to keep his distance with the boy so that he didn't impede on his supposed relationship with his parents and Tim had spent Christmas alone and without anyone to keep him company. Tim didn't have the traditions of other families, Bruce wasn't even sure if he had trees and presents. Even at his darkest moments Bruce still had Alfred to look out for him, but it dawned on him that Tim didn't have anyone.

If Bruce was being honest to himself, his return to Gotham hadn't been as pleasant as it could have been. The first few days might have been enjoyable, Bruce wouldn't be surprised if he had been too tired to be anything other than happy, but it definitely hadn't lasted long. Pretty soon Bruce had gotten to see just how much his 'death' had affected Tim, how different he was from the boy he'd left months ago, and Bruce wasn't ready for that. Some part of him must have known that any change in the boy was certainly caused by his obsessive need to find Bruce, a need he'd probably inherited in the years he'd been working with Bruce, but it hadn't felt like a priority back then. There was just so much for Bruce to catch up on, so much work that had to be done to ensure a steady change in command from Dick back to Bruce, that Tim hadn't been a priority. Bruce had become so much like Tim's parents without even noticing and now he might have lost one of his sons.

As the program on the tv changed to the commercials Bruce was shocked out of his daze and quickly turned it off to think. He left the breakfast Alfred had brought him mostly untouched to go downstairs to the kitchen to see if he was the only one to catch the interview.

Alfred looked just as disappointed as Bruce felt while Dick looked too anxious to say anything. Bruce could tell he put most of the blame on himself for abandoning his little brother, but everyone knew they couldn't sit around angry about things they couldn't change right now. They couldn't just wait for another year to pass with Tim so far removed from the rest of his family.

* * *

Titans Tower was mostly empty outside of the three of them finishing up on their Christmas preparations. With most of the titans out of town visiting family they had to make sure everything was in order in case someone tried to break in. The odds were in their favor as most villains had their own Christmas plans, but Tim was never one to leave their security up to odds. Kon and Bart were there mostly to keep Tim company as long as they could and hopefully convince him to spend Christmas with either one of them. They all knew he spent most of the break on his own and they couldn't leave their friend to that kind of fate.

Kon decided to act first and turned his eyes away from the game he and Bart were playing on the tv to ask, "Hey, you wanna come to Smallville with me for a few days? I could ask Ma and Pa about you staying for Christmas dinner." He was trying to sound as nonchalant as possible and hoped Tim wouldn't notice the look he and Bart were giving each other in anticipation.

Tim didn't look up from the laptop on his lap but gave a laugh that wasn't meant to sound as sarcastic as it did. "Wouldn't it be weird for them to have a stranger in their home for Christmas? Besides, Christmas dinner should be for family, it's fine."

The response didn't sit well with Kon; Tim had been over to the farm enough times that neither Ma or Pa considered him anything other than a close family friend. Kon wanted to make a point about Tim certainly not spending Christmas with his family, even the scarps of the one he had left, but he didn't want Tim to have to say something about how unfamilial his relationship with Bruce, Dick, and Alfred was.

"You could come to Central with me if you wanted," Bart said before remembering to add, "Max loves having you around and there's a big party anyway so one person isn't a big deal."

Smiling at his friends' concern, Tim assured them, "I'll be fine on my own you two. Someone should probably stay behind and watch over the tower just in case." Before either of them could say something else to try and change his mind, Tim stood up and announced, "I'm going to go check on the sensors in the yard. Can't leave anything up to chance."

Tim left with the boys thinking of another plan of action. They had been friends long enough that they couldn't just leave something like this slide and although the two had altruistic intentions in helping their friend, they also knew having Tim around would be to their benefits too.

Even after the years they had known about one another, Clark and Kon weren't close to any degree. Christmas was always strained with Clark always coming to visit his parents. He'd gotten into the habit of quickly eating the Christmas dinner, always remembering to thank Ma for her great cooking, before rushing back to his room from the remainder of the night. Although none of the family would be willing to say it outloud, Kon knew he made things awkward for them. They had traditions they had built over the years since Clark crash landed in their backyard and there wasn't any room for Kon in them. So he spent most of the night and the following day in his room distracting himself with old shows and video games while using all of his will to not listen in on the conversation happening on the other side of the wall. There were always a few moments he wanted to go join the family, but in the years since he'd started to spend the days by himself they had never complained that he wasn't with them. He'd hoped that Tim coming by would mean things could change, that he might not have to stay hidden away in his room, but that didn't seem likely.

Bart's own experiences weren't all that different. Max spent most of the days before Christmas cleaning out the living room and preparing all of the decorations. Bart hadn't known a lot about Christmas the first year he spent in Central, in the future there weren't many causes for celebration, so the entire experience had been new to him. Max had gotten bored with all of his questions pretty quickly and had asked him to do some menial tasks in his room while he handled the more important things on his own. Bart understood, he really did. He knew he shouldn't be around to mess things up and make people angry because it seemed to happen a lot around him and the damage could be kept to a minimum if he kept to himself. When Christmas day did finally roll around Bart usually didn't come out to greet the guests because he didn't want to risk seeing Barry or Wally upset to have him there. They came by to see their friends and Bart definitely wasn't one of them. He came out to eat dinner, there was only so far a speedster could go without eating anything, but even then mostly kept to himself. Bart found the conversations taking place around him more interesting than anything he had to say and was out of the picture once the group moved to opening presents. Without Kon's super hearing Bart didn't have to worry about overhearing something that wasn't meant for him, but he did wonder if anyone noticed that he wasn't there. Realistically he felt that someone had to notice that he wasn't with the rest of the group, but the lack of presents meant for him said otherwise. Bart had seen enough Christmas movies to know that Christmas wasn't about the presents, but he also knew their absence spoke volumes to his place in the family.

Knowing the two were thinking about the same thing, Kon said, "I guess we could stay here and keep him company if we wanted."

"Yeah he would never agree to come with us," Bart said in agreement. Looking around the room they were in, Bart added, "No reason not to stay, but the tower doesn't really feel Christmassy."

Kon didn't have any money with him, but he knew just were Tim kept his and was easily able to fish it out from the bag he had left behind. "This can be our present to Tim and we can probably find everything we need if we leave right now."

"We're going to need a lot of lights considering how huge the place is," Bart realized. "We can't halfass our first Christmas together."

"We'll probably need a pretty big tree too," Kon said taking in the dimensions of the room. "An average sized tree's going to look small with these high ceilings."

Bart recalled, "There were some I saw on my way here and we could find one big enough to look nice here."

* * *

Although Tim tried, he couldn't find any fault in the security on the ground. It was a testament to how much time and effort he had put into the security program, but he sort of wished he had a problem to distract himself with. If not it was certainly going to be a long night of trying to pass time.

He didn't think there was anyone left in the tower, he'd seen Kon and Bart leave soon after he had, so it was surprising to hear hushed arguing coming from the common room. The first thing his mind went to was that his security system was not as strong as he had imagined, but he soon recognized the voices as those of his friends. Confused, Tim peeked into the room to see Kon lifting a tree arguing with Bart over where to place it. He stood still for a few moments taking in the scene of scattered ornaments, unwrapped lights, and tree being held in the air before stepping in to ask, "What's going on?"

It looked like Kon almost lost his grasp on the tree, but he regained it in time to say, "Artistic differences, Tim, it always comes down to artistic differences."

Bart rushed over to Tim to explain, "He doesn't understand that we can't put the tree in the middle. I'll trip over all the wires, Tim. If I'm going fast I can't see all of them."

"Why do you have a tree in the first place?" Tim asked confused.

Kon easily answered, "We've decided we're going to stay with you over Christmas."

"You didn't have to do that." Tim repeated, "Really, you didn't have to."

"We know, but we didn't want you to be alone on Christmas."


	37. New Year's Eve

Tim and Kon share a new year's eve kiss

 **New Year's Eve**

* * *

Tim watched from the top of the stairs as people began trickling into the Manor. It was almost four in the evening and the house was starting to feel chillier as people began moving things out to the back porch to enjoy the pool and fireworks, but Tim wasn't all that interested. His special guest wasn't here yet and he didn't want to miss seeing him come in.

He felt felt Dick rushing around behind him as he looked for some sunscreen until he crouched down beside him to ask, "Whatcha looking at, Babybird?"

"People," Tim mumbled. He wasn't quite ready to admit everything just yet and he hoped his brother didn't press the issue.

Dick turned to the fact Tim hadn't changed out of his sleeping clothes and asked, "Why haven't you changed yet? You're going to be late and the pools going to be too cold soon."

"I'm not swimming."

"Why not?" Dick asked.

"I'm still not very good at it," Tim admitted. His coach in school said it was because he was still small and he'd get better as he grew up and Tim was willing to wait until then to get in the pool.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Timbo. We're surrounded by superheroes and they would never let anything bad happen to you."

Deciding to focus on the finishing on the railings instead of actually looking at his older brother, Tim mumbled, "I don't want to miss them coming in."

Raising an eyebrow, Dick asked, "Them or him?" Pressing closer to Tim, he added, "Are you waiting for a special someone, Tim?"

"No," Tim said a little too loud to be appropriate. "I miss Uncle Clark too."

"But you knew who I was talking about without me having to say," Dick challenged. "That has to mean something."

Tim finally admitted, "Maybe. I guess it's possible."

Standing up and encouraging Tim to do so too, Dick said,"So why don't you come downstairs with me and we can hang around the pool? When they get here it won't be as awkward between you and Connor when he gets here. If you stay up here then you're just going to run into your room as soon as you see him."

Tim contemplated his options before asking, "Are you sure?"

"Of course. It's my job as your big brother to give you advice on these kinds of things."

Still not entirely sure but wanting to believe Dick, Tim stood up and said, "Ok. I'll change."

Dick assured him, "I'll be right here so we can walk downstairs together."

After waiting for a few minutes, Dick began to grow worried and decided to check on his brother and make sure he hadn't changed his mind. He knocked on Tim's door and asked, "Everything alright, Timmy? We should get going soon."

When he didn't get a response, or maybe one low enough that Dick couldn't hear, Dick took the initiative to open the door and asked again, "Everything alright? You were taking a while."

Looking down at the assortment of floaties he had pulled out of his closet and placed on his bed, Tim said, "I can't swim by myself like you can, Dick."

"That's okay, Babybird, most people your age can't, Dick assured, "You can use your floaties if you want."

"But he doesn't have to use them. He can swim all by himself."

"He can also fly all by himself, but you shouldn't worry about that either."

Tim mumbled, "Okay," again and picked out something that wouldn't make him look like too much of a little kid. In the end he decided to go with two clear arm floaties and hoped they weren't too noticeable to any of Bruce's friends.

Before they could step out, Dick asked, "Don't you think you should get one that goes around your waist?"

"I'm not that much of a baby, Dick," Tim said agitated. "I don't need them to go in the pool."

"I know you don't, but just to be safe it would be a good idea." Dick offered as a compromise, "If you don't need it we can keep it to the side, but if you do need it it'll be right there."

Tim couldn't think of a proper counter argument and decided Dick probably knew best. He sighed and said, "Fine, but you have to be the one to hold it." Although it was too small to fit around Dick, Tim hoped if people say it they might think it belonged to him.

Wanting to show his appreciation Dick added, "I'll even put your sunscreen on for you so you don't miss a spot,"

Not sure what to do with his appreciation for his older brother, Tim said, "Thank you, Dick."

"No problem, little brother. I know how important tonight is for you."

As soon as they stepped off the stairs Tim anxiously pulled on Dick's arm and begged, "You can't say anything, Dick. You have to promise you won't say anything to anyone."

"I know, Tim, but that doesn't mean I can't mess with you about it." As they entered the back porch and prepared to greet their guests, Dick leaned in to add, "It's your first ever crush and I'm your big brother so there's a certain way the universe needs these things to go."

Annoyed, Tim huffed away from Dick to launch himself at Wally and ask, "Do you want to go swimming with me? I've been practicing a lot and they've been teaching us swimming at school."

Carrying him over to the steps of the pool, Wally let him dangle his feet in the water and said, "Wow you must be really good then."

"I'm okay," Tim said for the sake of modesty, "but you can't leave me in all by myself."

"I would never even think about it." Wally dipped in beside Tim and slowly lowered himself until his shorts began to inflate and the water stopped feeling as cold. "I could even teach you a few tricks if you wanted."

Tim considered the offer as he made his way to the second step to test how comfortable he felt. In the end he decided, "I can't go underwater though. The water hurts my eyes and ears."

"Hmm. Maybe I can teach you how to jump into the pool. You've never done that before right?"

Concerned and barely able to imagine floating in the water by himself, Tim asked, "What if I jump too hard and my feet get broken when they hit the floor."

"You're floaties will keep you above water."

"What if they pop while I'm jumping?" Tim asked. If there was anything Bruce had taught him it was that he needed to consider every possibility when it came to his safety.

"Then I'll be the one to catch you." Patting Tim's hair because he knew how much it bothered him to get his hair wet, Wally assured him, "You'll be ready by the end of the night. Just floating around the pool will calm your nerves, don't worry."

Tim responded to his wet hair by splashing water into Wally's face while waiting for the water to not feel as chilly. It was was well past his waist by now and Tim was starting to feel anxious, but Wally was never more than a few inches away from his side.

By now Dick was warming up with laps around the pool, and he emerged from underwater to ask Tim, "Are you ready to go deeper?"

Enjoying the feeling of staying grounded to the steps, Tim decided, "No not yet. Maybe later, but not yet."

"How about coming off the steps?" Dick tried. "You'll like being able to move your legs more and get more comfortable."

Knowing if he wanted to impress Conner he'd have to move past the steps at some point, Tim asked, "You'll save me?"

"Of course that's what we do."

When Tim still couldn't reach a decision Wally offered, "How about you crouch down a little so you can get everything wet and it won't bother you as much to go deeper?"

Holding onto Wally's hand as he made sure to keep his head above the water, Tim felt ready to go past the steps. He wanted to move before he got dry and cold again and as soon as he was properly wet he signaled for Wally and Dick to prepare to save him. Tim cautiously stepped off but as soon as his feet weren't meeting anything he frantically splashed his arms in panic. He knew he wouldn't drown with the floaties, but he only calmed down once Wally and Dick were holding him still and above water.

Concerned about his brother's reaction, Dick asked, "Do you want the spaceship floatie? I can grab it for you."

Tim wanted to argue, but as soon as Wally stopped holding onto him he began to panic again. He knew if he wanted to stay in the pool he'd probably need it.

Dick knew his brother had agreed even without him needing to say anything and he rushed out the pool to grab it from behind some of the lawn furniture. He threw it into the pool before leaping in beside it and pushing it in Tim's direction.

Wally helped Tim move back to the steps so he could get into the hole and moved back to Dick's side as they encouraged him to move out to them on his own. It took Tim a few seconds but that was only because he decided to leap from the top step to a few feet in front of him before kicking his feet forward as fast as he could.

Slowly moving backwards to urge Tim further towards the center, Dick asked, "It's not that bad is it?"

Enjoying the feeling of being able to kick his legs, Tim admitted, "No I guess not. It makes it better actually."

Before Dick could say anything in terms of gloating in his success, the door to the back porch opened up as Barry stepped out to bring the food for the party. He called out, "Hello boys! It looks like you're having a lot of fun."

"We are," Tim said easily.

Dick added, "You should come in too Uncle Barry."

"Doesn't Bruce have a rule about an adult having to be at the pool to watch you guys?" Barry asked looking for an explanation for why he might leave the group preparing the rest of the food. "He doesn't seem like the kind of person to let kids swim by themselves."

"We're only allowed to swim when Bruce or Alfred can watch us, but they don't come in a lot," Tim said trying to be helpful. "Sometimes Ace comes too, but he freaks out every time we go in the pool and tries to get us out even when we don't need his help."

Smirking down at them as he made sure the food was properly sealed, Barry said, "I guess Bruce would want me to drop everything and make sure no one gets hurt."

Dick added, "The others should be getting here soon too so Bruce will have more help setting up."

It didn't take him long to change into his swimsuit and sneak past Bruce, it didn't take him long to do most things, and he returned to find the boys competing to see who could make the largest splash with his jump.

Tim stayed in the back as the judge, he was the only one who couldn't jump in so it was the only thing he could do, and tried to guard his face as Wally and Dick repeatedly leaped in. As soon as he spotted Barry taking off his shoes he asked, "Can you jump in too, Uncle Barry? You could make a huge splash if you jump." By the sheer fact he was larger, Barry should have made the biggest jump out of the group.

Stepping up to the edge he said, "I'm going to need some room so no one gets hurt." He leaped up as high as he could, a childish part of himself wanting to impress the boys, before looking up to see Tim wading in the water from the ripples.

"Uncle Barry wins," Tim exclaimed clapping. "The water went so high and splashed me in the face."

Before the others could start complaining about the comparison not being fair, the door opened again as Clark and Conner stepped onto the back porch to greet them enthusiastically.

"You guys look like you're having a lot of fun," Clark noted. "Although Steve and Diana were wondering where you went, Barry."

Wanting Conner to get into the pool as soon as possible, Tim decided, "We're about to start a game of volleyball. You should join too."

Wally looked back at him confused, they hadn't talked about any games, but seeing the blush growing deeper he knew to go along with it. By now pretty much everyone knew about Tim's crush on Conner even though he didn't like to admit it. Catching a similar knowing look in Dick, Wally added, "We should break out into teams. One member from each family on the teams to keep things fair."

"I call Uncle Clark and Wally on my team," Dick said quickly. "You guys won't be able to beat us at all."

Laughing, Barry assured him, "I wouldn't be so sure, kid."

While Conner went to the pool house to change and Clark went to find a ball and net to pass through the center Tim pulled Dick to the side to say, "I think I don't need my floaties anymore, Dick."

"You don't know how to swim yet, Timmy," Dick said. "You should probably keep them on."

Looking back at the pool house, Tim begged, "But...Conner."

"He won't care about something like that," Dick assured him. "You know that."

"But I'm the only one, Dick."

"No one cares. They care that you don't get hurt."

"Okay," Tim grunted before adding, "Thank you, Dick."

Swimming over to his half of the pool, Dick said, "No problem, Babybird. It'll make up for how bad we beat you in this game."

Catching the ball after Clark blew air into it, Barry tested it a few times as he warned Dick, "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

Conner took his place beside Tim and Barry and added, "We're going to beat you so bad, Dick. We're a lot better than you." With all the things Clark had been teaching Conner, trash talking wasn't one of them.

Once everyone was in position, Barry bounced the ball in his hand before speeding up to spike it over the net with just enough energy to not destroy it as soon as it hit the water. "One point for us," he said smugly. "That's the closest this game is going to be so cherish the moment."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Barry," Clark said as he got into position to serve the ball over the net. "It might just be the only time you're in the lead."

The game stayed tied for most of the night, neither team could get more than one point ahead of the other, but after crossing 10 the kids decided to sit on the edge and watch the game instead. After they had decided the team to get a two point lead would be the winner, Barry and Clark starting being even more competitive and the boys couldn't get anything in.

Every now and then Conner tried to use his laser eyes to try and pop the ball and end the game, but every time he tried he almost hit someone.

After a few minutes the door opened behind them as Hal and Diana joined the group. Once they saw the two in intense competition they asked the boys about the score before immediately joining in the game, Hal with Clark and Diana with Barry. There was a controversy for a moment over whether or not Hal should be allowed to use his ring in the game, but they decided it was okay if Diana could use her wrist cuffs.

Pretty soon Conner decided he was bored of seeing the same few plays get acted out over and over again. Once Barry's team had the lead and was getting ready to serve he asked Clark, "Who are you going to kiss at midnight Dad?" Just to keep his attention Conner added, "You too, Uncle Hal, who are you going to kiss? Aunt Diana has Uncle Steve, but you two don't have anyone."

Shocked out of his concentration Clark turned to Conner alarmed. "Why would you ask that? What? Conner, what?"

As soon as the ball hit the water behind him and Hal Conner sighed and said, "This was getting boring. I don't care anymore and you guys keep on doing the same thing over and over again."

Before anyone could refute the point Diana called out, "That point counts. We win."

"You boys really play dirty don't you?" Hal said from beside Clark. "That was a smart move, Conner."

Quickly running around and removing the net and from the pool before they could start another match, Wally said, "We should go join everyone on ground as soon as Tim tries to jump in." He didn't really care, he was just as hungry as the rest of the swimmers, but he still wanted to see Tim jump.

Tim quickly said, "No. It's okay. We can eat instead."

Wally promised, "I'll catch you if that's what you're afraid of."

Seeing no way out of the situation and everyone looking at him expectantly, Tim decided, "No it's okay. I'll do it." Tim didn't want any of the heroes to think he was scared and he slowly made his way to the end of the board. He could see that Wally was edging closer just in case, but Tim didn't want anyone to think he needed the help. He inwardly counted to three but couldn't seem to move his feet until he saw Conner look up expectantly.

Bruce caught a glimpse of Tim standing over the pool from inside the Manor where he was cutting up fruit. He wasn't immediately worried, but he did rush outside to make sure everything was alright. Bruce noted the adults in the pool and said, "You have all been horrible help today. The pool was supposed to be for the kids," before turning to his son to ask, "What are you doing, Tim?"

"I'm about to jump in the pool, Dad," Tim explained with a shaky voice. "Everyone else did."

Wally assured him, "It's okay Uncle B. We'll catch him if you're worried."

"I'm not worried, I just want to know Tim's not worried." Bruce knew he didn't have to be worried all things considered, but he knew Tim was skeptical considering his stressed stance.

"It's okay I can do it." There was no way he was going to be surrounded by half the Justice League and not do something everyone else had done. It was only after a few words of encouragement from the group behind him that he walked more than jumped into the water. His eyes were squinted closed, his hands were still tightly grasping the floatie around his waist, and everyone was ready to go see if he needed help until Tim mumbled, "Cold. Cold. Cold. The water is very very cold."

Diana reasoned, "It's getting late and you were out of the pool for a while so it probably feels colder for you."

Barry got out of the pool and quickly shook off the water until he was completely dry with Wally and Clark soon to follow. "I can grab you guys towels to dry off."

Everyone called out in unison, "Please," before stepping out of the pool and starting to shake as the cold air hit them hard.

Bruce helped Tim take off the floaties as he was shaking too hard to wiggle them off himself and once a towel landed on his head he tried to keep Tim warm. He warned, "You don't want to spend the rest of the break sick."

Dick wasn't paying attention to the cold, but looked down at the food at the table and asked, "Can we start eating? Food looks pretty good."

* * *

Dried off from a shower and clean of all the chemicals from the pool, Tim sat in the den of the pool house watching the clock start to countdown on tv. They still had a few hours until midnight but once the heating in the pool couldn't counter the cold night everyone began to trickle out. As the only two non metas in the pool Dick and Tim were told to leave first and being much smaller Tim was finished first. He would have gone to Bruce and offer him help with the remainder of the party, there was going to be a larger dinner closer to midnight, but he was too tired to be of much help.

Surprisingly Conner was the next one to be finished and he quickly flew up to the seat beside Tim to join him in watching tv. Tim didn't know what to say and he didn't need to once Conner asked, "Do you wanna watch a movie? This is pretty boring." The only thing they were showing was the crowd over NYC and after a few scenes it was pretty uninteresting.

"What movie do you want?" Tim offered, "We could watch anything you want to."

Not too aware of many good movies, Conner asked, "What do you usually watch?"

"Dick and I like a lot of old kung fu movies, but I don't know if the others would like them."

Raking his mind for anything his father might have mentioned, Conner thought, "What about Star Wars?"

Feeling all the more in love, Tim asked, "Have you seen any of them before?"

"Not really," Conner said honestly before remembering Tim might not be impressed with that answer. "I know a lot of the stuff that happens in them though."

"Which one do you want to see first?" Tim asked. This was more of a test to see what Conner's taste was, but he knew there was a right answer Tim would appreciate more.

"Dad always says to ignore the first three movies so we should probably start from the fourth one," Conner said easily. He could tell that Tim was excited and he hoped it had something to do with him.

"Okay but we should wait until the others get here. They won't like it if we start without them." Tim didn't want them to come in and see them in the middle of a movie if the adults wanted to watch something else.

"What should we do while we wait?" Conner asked. "It's going to take a while before everyone finishes up."

Dick came into the room wrapped in a towel and his pjs and offered the boys, "We should play video games. We might even get a few games in before everyone else takes over."

Tim didn't really mind, he thought it was a good idea considering he got to sit next to Conner on the couch, but he did think everyone was getting too competitive once the adults came back in. Even Bruce looked like he wanted to complain about them acting like children, but there wasn't much he could say after he became obsessed with beating Diana on Rainbow Road. Dick had a personal vendetta against Steve after he made a joke about him being short and even Wally wanted to beat his uncle.

With a nudge to Tim's arm Conner leaned in and whispered, "Do you want to go upstairs? You have a tv there right?"

Looking at the clock, Tim agreed. "We don't have a lot of time before midnight. We won't be able to catch most of the movie."

"We could go on the balcony and watch the fireworks though."

No one noticed them getting off the couch to leave the room, Dick subconsciously knew they made more room on the couch but he couldn't pull himself away from the game long enough to notice why.

They found themselves in the game room on the second floor and immediately rolled the tv out to the balcony so they could watch the countdown. They only had a few minutes left until the ball dropped, but perked up when they saw that they had more than enough time to get comfortable on the couch.

Suddenly Conner remembered, "There's a rule. When it's officially midnight you have to kiss someone."

Although he already knew about the tradition, the reminder lead Tim to lean in and whispered with a chuckle, "Do you think everyone downstairs is going to kiss?" Diana was the only one with her boyfriend there.

"Maybe they could do something like a kiss on the cheek instead. I don't think they are going to notice when midnight happens though." After a small pause to appreciate the skyline scene on the screen outside Conner worked up the courage to ask, "Do you want to kiss at midnight?"

Tim knew he must have looked flushed, Conner's vision was good enough that the darkness wouldn't bother him, but he managed to squeak out, "Yeah that sounds like a good idea."

Conner didn't show it, but he was proud of himself for finally asking Tim the questions. He had been debating it the entire trip over, he confessed his plan to Clark and asking for his advice, but it was nowhere near as nerve racking as he had imagined. Being around Tim just made him feel calm.

They didn't say much to each other for the remainder of the day, there was only a few minutes left, but when the final few seconds began to countdown they straightened up in excitement. It was the nerve of knowing this was going to be both of their first kisses and that if they did something wrong they could ruin their relationship that kept them on edge.

As soon as the ball began to drop they faced each other feeling nervous all over again. Tim took the initiative this time and leaned into Conner until their lips met and neither of them dared breath and ruin the moment. They held the position for a few moments until they had to pull away to catch a breath and silently enjoy the fireworks lighting up the sky in front of them.

* * *

Waving goodbye at the crowd as they took off in their own forms of transportation, Tim finally began to feel incredibly tired. It was well past his regular bedtime and he knew he wouldn't be able to stay up much longer so instead he held onto Bruce so his father would hold him as they entered the house.

Closing the door behind them, Bruce asked, "Do you want me to put you to bed?"

"Yes please," Tim mumbled with a yawn.

"No problem, sport."

"We did a lot today," Tim remarked as they walked up the stairs. "I might even be tired tomorrow."

"I'll make sure no one bothers you until you're well rested," Bruce promised.

Tim hummed his appreciation but not before asking, "Can Conner come over tomorrow?"

"He's probably going to want to stay in too."

"Conner's not like us," Tim said happily. "He doesn't need a lot of sleep just like Uncle Clark doesn't."

Sighing, Bruce said, "Maybe Clark wants him to stay inside so they can spend the day together. His break ends soon then yours."

Tim grunted his acknowledgment and remained seated when Bruce laid him down on his bed. It was while Bruce's back was towards him that Tim decided to add, "I kissed Conner today. While everyone was playing the game we went upstairs and watched everything on tv and at midnight we kissed." Getting through the statement was harder than he had imagined and he found his voice getting airier as he went along.

Although he ignored looking Tim in the eye, Bruce dropped his pjs on the bed and said, "That's nice son."

"Do you think it will happen again?" Tim asked. He really wanted to, but all the movies he'd watched ended right here and he didn't know what was supposed to happen after.

"I can't know for sure, short." Bruce cautiously asked, "Do you want it to?"

"Yes," Tim said enthusiastically. "It was a lot of fun and I really really like him."

"Well then I hope things go in your favor," Bruce said diplomatically.

After smiling his appreciation to Bruce, Tim looked over the clothes he had chosen for him and prepared to change. Bruce patted his hair as a goodnight, but before he could leave Tim asked, "Are you going to sleep too?" If he wasn't, Tim just might decide to stay up and see if he could sneak his phone away to call Conner in Metropolis.

Bruce said honestly, "I have to talk to Dick about something important and maybe make a call or two, but I'll be in bed soon."

Tim deflated as his plan fell through, but he decided he already had the perfect beginning for the new year..


	38. Hunted

**Hunted**

Tim's first time meeting Ace

* * *

Tim immediately froze from his position on his swing as he heard something move in the bushes behind him. At first he imagined it was a squirrel or bird looking for some food, they came to hang out in his yard a lot, but he soon heard something between a squeal and growl that forced him to imagine that he was being watched by something more dangerous. He nervously glanced over his shoulder ready to sprint back into his house in a moment's notice.

Tightening his grip on the rope holding the swing up, Tim studied the bushes to see if he could make out what was watching him but stopped thinking when the noise moved in his direction. Tim realized he wouldn't have enough time to run back inside and protect himself, the thing would probably catch up to him by then, and he was forced to come up with a new plan.

For a moment he wondered if it would be worth it to climb up the tree his swing was hung from, but Tim immediately recognized the problems with that plan. If that thing, maybe person, could climb the tree too Tim would be stuck without anything to do.

As the sound carried ever closer to him, he decided to act on instinct and hope for the best. Tim slowly lowered himself to the ground before using all of his energy to sprint to the fence between the Drake and Wayne properties. It didn't take him long to climb over the fence, but he didn't waste anytime looking back as he didn't want to risk wasting precious time.

Tim cautiously lowered himself on top of the bushes planted along side the fence, he was small enough to sit on them without falling through, and finally landed on the well manicured grass of Bruce Wayne's backyard. He took a moment to see that there was no one around, but he didn't expect anything different as it was still a little early and Bruce just have only gotten back from patrol a few hours ago.

Although he didn't want to bother Bruce, Batman definitely needed all the sleep he could get, Tim couldn't think of anything to do other than run to the front door and start ringing the doorbell. At least it would be better than knocking the door on the back porch.

It didn't take long for Alfred to open the door, Tim knew he must have known about Tim climbing over the fence considering how extreme the security was in the Manor, and the butler politely asked, "Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Tim?"

Nodding his head frantically, Tim motioned for him to lean down and carefully whispered, "I need Batman. I need Bruce."

Alfred stiffened up, Tim knew it must have been shocking, but to his benefit he didn't try to play dumb. Instead he motioned for Tim to follow him into the Manor and lead him to a sitting room explaining simply, "I'll go collect Master Bruce. It shouldn't take long so please wait here until then."

Now safe from danger and alone, Tim wondered if he'd made the wrong decision. Maybe this wasn't something Batman needed to be worried about, maybe it actually just was a squirrel and Tim was acting like a baby, and he'd get annoyed with Tim bothering him. After all Bruce dealt with people like Joker and Ivy all the time. He was too important to be worried about something scaring Tim.

Tim debated whether or not he should run back to his house and deal with whatever was in his backyard himself, but after taking a few minutes to think it over he decided to would be even ruder to bother them and then run away without explanation. He didn't need Bruce telling his parents about how he'd been bothering his neighbors.

Before too long Bruce walked into the room visibly concerned. He took a seat beside Tim and asked, "What is it, Tim? Alfred said you needed me."

Frantically nodding once again, Tim explained, "There's something in my house, Mr. Wayne. I was outside on my swing and I heard something moving around. I don't know what it is, but I don't think it was a squirrel or a bird. It sounded scary. At first I thought I had imagined it, but then it started coming closer so I ran over to you."

"Why me? Aren't your parents home?" Bruce asked curious. He didn't want to interrogate a boy obviously concerned, but he was still shocked about what Alfred had told him. He still didn't believe that a small boy could know his secret.

"Your Batman and my parents are away right now," Tim explained easily. "They're in Russia looking at fossils of something so I'm alone right now."

Momentarily not as interested in Tim's confession of his secret, Bruce asked, "Don't you have someone looking after you? Is there anyone in your house to help you."

Tim could tell Bruce was upset and he deflated as he realized it was probably something to do with him. Still, he honestly answered, "I'm too old for a babysitter Mr. Wayne. I can look after myself."

Bruce wanted to ask more questions, particularly about him knowing he's Batman and who thought it was okay to leave such a young boy alone, but he didn't think it would be best for Tim. Instead he stood up and said, "It was in your backyard, right? We should go and see what it is."

Nodding, Tim stood up and followed Bruce outside. This time they took the more normal route as they walked to Tim's house and he dug out the house key from his pocket and offered it to Bruce because he still wasn't great at opening the door. It was pretty heavy and it took a lot of Tim's energy and time to push it open. This was time sensitive.

Bruce frowned as he took the key from Tim but forced himself to stop when he say the boy looking up at him concerned. The last thing he wanted was for Tim to think he was upset at him.

As soon as they were inside Tim lead him through the fastest route to the backyard. He stopped as soon as they were at the porch doors and scanned around looking to see if there was anything a miss. He pointed in the direction of his swing and explained, "It was in that direction, but I don't know where it is right now. It might not be here anymore, but it really was a few minutes ago, Mr. Wayne."

"I believe you, Tim," Bruce assured him. He didn't think it was really anything to be worried about, a person would have definitely left by now, so he offered, "Do you want to come out with me?"

Unsure, Tim took a moment to consider his options. At the very least he didn't want Bruce, Batman, to think he was scared and he knew Bruce would protect him. Deciding it was a good a time as any to be brave, Tim nodded and said, "Sure, I don't mind."

"Stay behind me," Bruce instructed as he opened the door. "You can tell me which way to go, but stay behind me."

Tim gripped onto the back of Bruce's pant leg and explained, "It shouldn't take long to get there. It's only a few minutes away."

They walked silently, both trying to listen intently for any noise, but Bruce was distracted by the distance they were walking. He knew the Drakes had a back yard comparable to his own, many acres, but he couldn't comprehend why anyone would think it was okay for a child to play by himself so far aware from even his own home. Bruce guessed it was a great thing that Tim was able to find his way to the Wayne Manor.

By the time they were at the swing Bruce wouldn't even see the house, but Tim had other worries. He asked, "Should I go on the swing? It might be waiting for me to get on the swing."

"Sure," Bruce said not really aware what the right answer was. "I'll look around to see if I can find it."

They worked in silence, Tim scanning around the bushes and Bruce peeking inside them, but they couldn't hear anything. Bruce could see that Tim was getting nervous, he probably thought it might have broken into his home or that Bruce didn't believe him, but he couldn't think of anything to say to assure him things were fine.

Bruce walked around a little, hoping to hear something get some clues, and luckily enough he heard a branch break not too far away. Looking back, he could see that Tim had heard it too and when they heard it a second time Tim sprinted behind Bruce for safety.

The boy was obviously incredibly worried and Bruce asked, "Do you want to run back home while I deal with this?"

Tim considered the distance he would have to run and decided, "It's safer with Batman."

Bruce wanted to say something about not mentioning that while they're outside, but he was still more worried about Tim. "Stay close, okay? Everything will be fine."

Tim nodded and held on tightly to Bruce's pant as they made their way in the direction of the noise. It became louder as they got closer and pretty soon Bruce knew just where it was coming from. He could tell Tim wasn't ready to let go so he decided it would be best to work slowly.

The noise stopped as soon as Bruce got closer and Tim dropped his hold on Bruce to cover his eyes and save himself from having to see just what it was. His imagination was going crazy by picturing the scariest most vile concoction that could exist.

Bruce slowly found whatever it was and carefully scavenged through the bushes until he pulled out a familiar looking ball of fur into the light. Practically on the verge of running away again, Tim only looked up when Bruce softly assured him, "It's fine, Tim. There's nothing to be worried about."

Trusting Bruce, Tim peeked through his fingers and was embarrassed to find an annoyingly cute puppy trying to break out of Bruce's hold. Unsure of what to do, Tim settled for blushing and trying to hide his face as he realized he'd gotten afraid of a little dog who didn't look like he could fight a leaf. Tim didn't want to know what Bruce thought of him.

Bruce let out an uncharacteristic smile as Tim tried to calm down his blush. He helped the boy to his feet as he explained, "This is a puppy I got for Dick not long ago, but apparently he broke into your backyard. I'll make sure Dick keeps a better eye on him from now on so you don't have to worry. I'm sorry he put you through this ordeal though. Dick will definitely be getting a lecture."

"That's okay," Tim whispered not wanting Dick to get in trouble on his behalf. Instead he leaned in to get a better look of the pup and asked, "What's his name?"

"He changes his mind every few days, but at this point I think he's settled on Ace." Bruce reiterated, "Don't worry. I'll have a word with him about not letting this happen again."

Tim didn't think he would have a problem if Ace broke into his backyard again, this was in fact Batman's dog, but he had to ask, "Is he going to fight crime too?"

"What?"

Thinking to himself as Bruce held open the door, Tim repeated, "When he's older, he's probably too small now, but when he's older is he going to go on patrol with you and Dick?"

"No, Timothy," Bruce answered hoping Tim would stop talking about his nightlife outside while lacking the resolve to ask the boy to stop. "He's a dog and dogs don't fight crime."

Tim let them walk in silence for a few minutes, but he eventually noted, "Superman's dog fights crime. He even has his own cape."

"Yes he does but that's because his dog is an alien like him. Superman would never take out a regular dog and put him in danger."

Bruce's tone told Tim to drop the subject but before he could apologize they were already at the door to Wayne Manor. Before Tim could thank Bruce for his help and turn back home, Alfred opened the door and motioned for them to come inside. "I take it everything went well, Master Bruce?"

"It was only Ace," Bruce explained. "He'd managed to break into Tim's backyard when no one was looking. I'll talk to Dick about it."

Standing in the foyer unsure of what his role in the conversation was, Tim decided to dismiss himself and turn back home. He smiled at Bruce and said, "Thank you for helping me, Mr. Wayne, but I should probably head back home now. It's getting late."

Surprising even himself, Bruce said, "I'd prefer it if you stayed for lunch, Timothy. It's the least we could do after you found Ace."

"Are you sure, Mr. Wayne? You don't have to if it's too much trouble."

"Definitely, Timothy. It's the least I can do to make it up to you for causing you so much trouble."

Tim wanted to argue, but he couldn't bring himself to disagree with Batman. Instead he compromised, "I can stay for a little while, but I'll go home after."

* * *

Tightening his hold on the rope in his hand, Tim tried his hardest to pull it away from Ace. They had been in the same position for a few minutes now, neither of them willing to give up any ground, but Tim could tell Ace was running out of energy. If he could hold out for a few more minutes he was sure he'd win.

He risked a glance back to the porch and saw Dick and Bruce watching him intently. They were talking to each other, probably about him, and Tim knew he wouldn't let them see him lose to Ace. He loved the puppy, but this was about impressing Batman.

Just as he'd expected Ace gave up not long after and Tim dropped down beside him in exhausted victory. They'd spent their entire day chasing each other around Bruce's backyard, everyone else was too busy, and Tim assumed this was a good a time as any to call it a day.

He collapsed on the grass and giggled as Ace padded around him looking for the best position to join before crawling on top of his lap. Tim tried to stay awake as long as he could, the ground wasn't the best place to fall asleep, and it took all of his remaining energy to urge Ace up and towards the Manor.

Tim eventually found himself sitting beside Bruce with Ace on his other side taking a well deserved nap.

"We spent all day outside, Mr. Wayne," Tim said proudly. "We were running and jumping and everything. He got to be Batdog and I was Batman."

"You must be pretty tired," Bruce noted still unable to ask Tim to stop talking about Batman. "It takes a lot of energy to keep up with a dog like Ace."

"Yeah he almost never wants to stop," Tim said thinking back to when he'd started chasing the squirrels that lived in Bruce's trees. "I don't know how he can always be moving."

"Well I'm really glad you offered to look after him while I'm not able, Timothy."

Tim was getting better at hiding his blush, but right now he was too tired to do anything other than assure him, "It wasn't hard. I really like spending time with him."

"You think you can stay for a while longer?" Bruce asked cautiously. He knew there was something to be said about a practical stranger asking a kid to stay at his house, but he found himself saying, "Ace really likes you and I think he'd be hurt to have to leave so soon."

Looking down, Tim considered his options. Batman needed his help. He was sure this was what his whole life was leading up to. Still, he wasn't sure there was anything he could do. Worse yet, what if he messed it up and ruined his relationship with Bruce forever? He took a moment to fully take in the fact he was sitting in the back porch of Wayne Manor with Batman to one side, Ace on the other, and Dick inside getting them a snack before he finally decided, "I'll stay if you need me to, Mr. Wayne. I'd love to help!"


	39. Learning Curve V

Tim woke up to the feeling of Bruce's chest rising and falling softly as he slept on. Blinking himself awake, Tim felt a puddle of his drool on on Bruce's shirt and tried to pat it dry before he woke up. He ended up doing nothing to help the situation and all he ended up doing was waking Bruce up to the feeling of a light pat on his chest.

Not used to sleep soundly, Bruce basked in Tim's warmth before nudging him to get his attention and greeting, "Good morning, Tim."

Smiling up at the soft tone, Tim replied, "Morning, Bruce." He didn't know why but his toes curled up and it just might have to do with him feeling much safer than he had in weeks, in months.

Understanding that emotions were almost as hard for Tim as they were for him, Bruce urged Tim back into his original position and calmly asked, "How are you feeling?"

Holding his hand out while he waited for Bruce to offer him his, Tim played around with the massive size difference in their fingers while he tried to figure out what the best response would be. "I think I'm still asleep, but I'm not sure. I still think that this might all just be a dream."

Bruce softly rubbed his knuckles while he asked, "Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?"

Tim sighed into Bruce's chest and tried to shake off the rest of his sleepiness. Even though he couldn't think straight yet, he still knew, "Yeah but...Bruce I don't want to talk about that right now. I'd much rather get some breakfast and coffee first and then have a serious conversation."

Bruce knew a diversion when he saw one, but he decided to indulge Tim. "That's no problem, but I'm assuming that we're going to be eating cereal again?"

Getting up from his place in Bruce's side, Tim stretched out his arms and thought out loud, "I can probably make something light, but it's not going to be anywhere near as good as what Alfred makes."

Bruce gave him a soft laugh and promised him, "Don't worry. I've learned not to hold it against people."

* * *

Standing over the stove as he made some toast, Tim hummed a soft song while he waited for the coffee to finish roasting. It was a strange sight for Bruce to walk in on, Tim was still wearing his pajamas and he still wasn't fully awake at the moment, but Bruce appreciated the lack of stress or worry in Tim's stance. He didn't know how long it had been since Tim felt that at ease and Bruce knew that if they could make this much progress in a single day, in a few weeks he would have his son back.

Bruce pulled out a seat at the breakfast nook and asked, "Where did you learn to cook?" Just from the smell he could note, "It's already seems scores ahead of anything Dick and I could possibly make." There was a particular lack of burning toast and spilled salt that always seemed to follow any time they came anywhere near the kitchen.

Obviously it was the wrong question to ask considering Tim straightened up, but he still answered, "I didn't always have someone to look after me so I sort of had to learn. It was either that or take out and I got out of the mood for pizza after a while." Placing down a plate in front of Bruce and another one for himself, Tim sat down in his own seat and shrugged off, "You saw the tapes so...you saw."

Eating some of the assorted fruit while he planned out the best way to bring up the subject, Bruce waited until Tim was somewhat comfortable to begin the hard part of the conversation. "Tim, there were some things we didn't talk about last night. Some things that didn't come up."

Tim's eyes darkened at the reminder and he mumbled, "'I'm guessing it's what I think it is."

"No more beating around the bush," Bruce promised. "It's about when your father found out about you being Robin."

The sad smile that made his way onto Tim's face was enough for Bruce to want to throw Jack in the pit to give him a piece of his mind, but it was Tim's answer that brought him back to the present. "Yeah that's what I thought. It was...it was rough."

Moving his chair so that he could sit beside Tim, Bruce took his small hands into his own once again before he stressed, "It wasn't rough, Tim. It was abuse. Plain and simple, it was abuse."

Tim watched as his his leg began to shake under the table and said, "You want to talk about what he said."

"What he insinuated, Tim-" Bruce started. "What he said about us-"

If they were going to be blunt and honest with each other it had to extend to everything and Tim felt a need to admit, "He thought you and I were sleeping together - having sex."

Cringing back at the words, Bruce felt the need to apologize. "Tim, if I've ever done something to make you feel like that, if you've ever felt uncomfortable around me I'm truly sorry."

Looking up at the sincere look on his face, Tim promised him, "Bruce, it wasn't about you. It was about me. You don't have to feel bad."

Confused and aware that there was even more for him to learn, Bruce asked, "What does that mean, Tim? What don't I know yet?"

Itching the side of his to try to distract himself from what he was about to admit, Tim took a deep breath and explained, "This happened before I was Robin so you didn't see it, but my dad wasn't really happy to find out that I am gay."

Unsure of what the best reaction would be, Bruce offered a quiet, "I didn't know."

"Yeah. I don't really bring it up because, well you saw my dad and it wasn't really a pretty picture."

Bruce leaned closer to him and let him rest his head on his shoulder and asked, "How did he find out?" He didn't think he wanted to know, but Tim needed to say it.

Tim bit his lip for a moment before answering, "It was a concerned teacher. In the fifth grade there was a boy I was pretty hungover, he and I would always talk about how much we loved some show, I can't remember the name now, but we were together a lot. We always sat together during lunch and we were beginning to learn about feelings and things like that and we talked about and decided it would be nice to kiss each other just before the bell rang to test out the waters and she caught us and told both of our parents."

A little struck at the image of a much younger Timothy acting flustered about a crush, Bruce let himself imagine what it must have looked like before realizing, "I'm assuming your father didn't react well."

Gripping onto Bruce's sleeve as he kept his gaze low, Tim added, "I wasn't allowed to go to school for a week until the bruises and swelling went down."

Bruce tightened his hold on Tim and declared, "You didn't deserve that, Tim. You did not deserve to be treated like that."

Not wanting to focus too much on the past, Tim broke out of Bruce's hold and assured him, "I know, Bruce, but he was my dad and I can't really change that."

Although he wasn't sure if he was stepping outside of his bounds, Bruce decided to do what felt the most natural. It was probably the fatherly instincts Alfred always talked about that lead him to say, "I know most of our relationship has been murky and strained to say the least, but I want you to know that I have always wanted you to be my son. Maybe it took a lot longer than it should have, but you're my son and there's nothing that's going to change that."

Tim took his eyes off of Bruce to admit, "I used to pretend that I was." At Bruce's worried look he stressed, "Before everything. When I used to live next door and didn't really know you and when I lived in the Manor and used to pretend I wouldn't have to go back to him."

Smiling internally at the image of him raising Timothy from a young age, Bruce assured him, "I want you to know that I would've loved to have you as son from the beginning."

Tim tried to be happy about what he had said, but there was still something that he couldn't get over. "I remember, Bruce, I don't know if you do, but I remember that you used to call me 'Dick' and..."

Even though Tim had already broken out of his hold, Bruce took his hands back into his own and uncharacteristically babbled. "Oh god Tim, I did see that in some of the tapes from the cave yesterday, but I didn't mean it. It was not intentional on my part and I know that doesn't mean much but I never meant to hurt you. After Dick left, I wasn't in a good place and I took it out on you and everyone around me, but I realize now just how much it hurt you Tim. But believe me, please, believe me when I say that you are my son, Tim. You are my son just like Dick is my son and there is nothing I would ever do to change it."

Neither of them said anything for a while, there was little left to say, but eventually Tim gave him an honest to god smile before getting up to remind Bruce, "You said something yesterday about me moving back to the Manor. I'm going to go get ready."

* * *

It became Bruce's job to load everything into his car but he didn't mind too much because he got to watch Tim rest with his seat reclined back. He looked at peace, something of a rarity, and Bruce knew he should have expected as much from Tim when he got to sit in an expensive car.

As they entered the gates of the estate, Bruce parked the car and lifted up the trunk while Tim grabbed some of the lighter bags and made his way in to see Alfred cleaning the foyer. As soon as he saw the teenager confusion and then delight pass over his face as he realized what the bags meant.

Dropping the bags at the foot of the stairs, Tim ran out to Alfred and threw his arms around him. Alfred threw a surprised look over his shoulder to Bruce, but he didn't need to understand everything to simply appreciated having his grandson back.

Once the bags and boxes were empty, Bruce sat down on the bed beside him and held him in the silence. Letting him rest his head on his chest once again, Bruce rubbed his arm and acknowledged, "I really don't know how I have spent so much time without you on by my side. I need you here just as much as anyone else, much more than anyone else, and I promise that things are going to be different from now on."


End file.
